


As Much As I Do

by rustingroses



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Minor Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Minor One-Sided Sugawarawa Koushi/Azumane Asahi, Pining, Tooru Makes Terrible Life Choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 21:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13889148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustingroses/pseuds/rustingroses
Summary: When Tooru’s sister calls to remind him to make good on his drunken promise to bring his boyfriend to Takeru’s birthday party, the only natural solution is to bring a fake one home. Tooru thinks it will only be for a single night: show up with Suga, prove a point to his sister, and thereby earn her silence on the matter for at least a little while, as Tooru figures out how to keep living with a love that feels like it might drown him.Then Iwaizumi shows up at the party, intending to surprise Takeru and Tooru alike, and Tooru quickly realizes the surface is further away than he’d imagined, and he's officially in way over his head.





	1. In Which Tooru Makes Three Mistakes

Tooru's first mistake is answering his phone without checking caller ID.

In Tooru's defense, Hajime calls every Sunday without fail, after Tooru's practice, and it is the sacred highlight of Tooru's week. It's the closest they get to seeing each other these days, and Tooru hates it. Hajime is not across the street, not attending the same school, not in the same city—he's not even in the same _prefecture_ , and the distance between them is a wound that never quite heals. Thus, Tooru will justifiably gouge the eyes out of anyone who dares to interrupt them.

Tooru demonstrates his intense devotion to the sanctity of their phone call by answering in his most cavalier tone of voice as he starts cooking his lunch. "Ah, Iwa-chan! Have you finally called to admit they've kicked you out of Jichi for your brutish ways? I told you before you left that you needed to work on your bedside manner! Not everyone is going to be as magnanimous as I am when it comes to being threatened and hit with—"

The caller bursts out laughing, and Tooru makes his second mistake. Instead of hanging up and throwing the phone under some couch cushions until his elder sister decides she's done teasing him, he squawks out a very undignified, "Geh?!" before following it up with an only slightly more dignified, "Mi?! What do _you_ want?!"

Katsumi giggle-snorts, an unappealing sound that Tooru trained himself out of when he was thirteen. "Hi, Mi!" she says in a mocking, high-pitched version of Tooru's voice. "How are you? I'm so glad you called, I've missed you! Yes, yes, I'm fine. How's Iwa-chan? Well, I'm just _so_ lucky that Iwa-chan hasn't killed me despite the way I treat him, because that would ruin my chances of joining the national team! And also I suppose I'd hate to see my boyfriend go to jail for my justified homicide."

"We are _not dating_!" Tooru reminds his sister for the billionth time and furiously stirs the egg and rice together in the pan as though that will make this conversation easier. If they _were_ dating, Tooru certainly wouldn't be wasting his time haranguing Hajime about his Golden Week plans to make sure Tooru could rearrange his own and maximize their time together. Instead he'd have already insisted that he be given complete control over Hajime's schedule and aligned the visit perfectly. Hoping to redirect Katsumi, he adds, "Iwa-chan wouldn't go to jail, anyways. He's Mom's favorite. If she had the option, she wouldn't even press charges."

"That's true," Katsumi sighs. "She'd just give him your room and insist on being called Mom instead of Auntie."

In unison, with their mom's soft, Kyushu-accented voice, they say, "Such a sweet boy. At least one of my children grew up to have some good sense."

Tooru bursts out laughing, Katsumi cackling so hard that Tooru tilts the phone away from his ear. "Well, Iwa-chan is the only one who grew up to have _Mom's_ good sense, at any rate," Katsumi says. Their mom concluded long ago that Tooru and Katsumi had both inherited their dad's sense, much to her dismay, and there's been an ongoing discussion as to whether that sense can be considered good for as long as Tooru can remember. It's a conversation that primarily consists of their mom's patented _Disappointed Looks_ while their dad hides behind whatever he's reading as though that will shield him from Katsumi or Tooru's life choices.

Tooru doesn't particularly mind that Hajime is the sensible one, though. It gives Tooru more opportunity to drive him crazy.

He checks the clock, only now remembering that he still has a little while before Hajime calls. He'd texted yesterday about needing to go grocery shopping after a morning study group, which means that he'll inevitably end up distracted by cooking meals for the rest of the week until mid-afternoon. With that in mind, Tooru tucks the phone between his shoulder and ear as he adds in the leftover pork and chicken from earlier in the week and stirs. "How's Takeru? Excited for his birthday next week weekend? Ah, speaking of—I'm going to leave Sunday after practice and just head out late in the evening. It's a long drive, but I can sleep in on Monday morning."

"Well, you'll be able to split the ride," Katsumi observes. "After all, your boyfriend is coming with you, isn't he?"

Tooru opens his mouth to furiously deny that Hajime is his boyfriend again, but hesitates as his brain parses her words. Hajime's at Jichi Medical School. He'd informed Tooru weeks ago that he didn't think he'd be able to make Takeru's party, disappointment heavy in his voice, and Tooru had dutifully passed that along to Katsumi and his parents. Confused, Tooru closes his mouth again and stands in the middle of his kitchen, aware that some sort of trap has been sprung on him but there's nothing that he can do except watch the volleyball drop in slow motion.

Tooru _loathes_ that feeling.

"I wouldn't want you to _forget_ ," she continues blithely. "You know, I don't think there's ever been someone that you wanted to bring home to have us all meet before."

"Uh." Tooru's mind is blank. He should make a quip about not wanting to expose anyone to the Oikawa insanity. Instead, he fumbles and blurts, "Bringing my boyfriend home to visit. Right. Yes. That is. I'm doing that. For Takeru's birthday."

The sly laugh in her voice leaves Tooru even more unnerved, which is frankly unfair. "Yes, your boyfriend. The one that you adore so much, the one that you've absolutely moved on from Hajime-kun with, the one you told me about while you were so shit-faced you clearly don't remember mentioning him despite announcing to everyone in the bar that you would be bringing him to Takeru's party."

Tooru closes his eyes as the bottom drops out of his stomach. He can sure as hell remember declaring exactly that now that Katsumi has jogged his memory _,_ of course—and if he ever needs a reason to keep from drinking with Katsumi, the sudden recollection of going from tipsy to plastered in a couple hours under the pressure of Katsumi's insistent questions about his relationship with Hajime would be enough. Tooru knows better than anyone else the weight of his helpless, inevitable, bone-deep love for Hajime. He doesn't need Katsumi advising him to either confess or get over it despite his increasingly desperate bids to distract her.

In finest Oikawa tradition, she had no idea how to give up or give in. This had led to a series of escalating battles when they were children, and as adults simply led to outright war.

So really, it's entirely her fault that Tooru had flat-out lied and told her he was "absolutely getting over Iwa-chan, Mi!" as evidenced by his serious boyfriend. So serious, in fact, that Tooru had sworn he'd—fuck. Fuck, he is absolutely never drinking with Katsumi again. He covers his face with his hands, only dimly realizing that Katsumi is still snickering, obviously pleased that she's won.

Katsumi clearly expects him to stammer something about his boyfriend being busy or that they'd broken up, even if she knows better than to expect him to confess to the lie. In doing so, she's forgotten something very important.

Oikawa Tooru does not back off from challenges, and will _die_ before he goes down without a fight.

This is his third and final mistake.

"Of course," he agrees with every ounce of composure he can scrape together. His sister makes a noise somewhere between irritation, amusement, and curiosity. It doesn't matter that they both know he's full of shit; if he shows up with a date to Takeru's birthday party and sells the deception to their family, he wins this round and they both know that, too. Even better, Hajime and Tooru's relationship will be off limits indefinitely, or at least until Tooru 'breaks up' with his boyfriend, which will give Tooru the chance to—well, honestly, the chance to stew in silence and pine until Mattsun and Makki somehow sense he isn't being teased enough and pick up Katsumi's slack. Tooru doesn't care—he will fucking take whatever he can get.

So Tooru offers his glossiest, brightest smile to his empty kitchen as he exclaims, "I can't wait to introduce him! He's been looking forward to it, Mi!" Then, before she can press him for a single detail, he adds, "Oh, Iwa-chan's calling. I'll see you next weekend!" and promptly hangs up.

It's only then that the smell of burnt rice registers, and Tooru looks at the charred mess in the pan with dismay as a sudden surge of frustration makes his chest tight.

He dumps the food into the sink and breathes heavily over it. This shouldn't be difficult. All he has to do is find someone willing to play boyfriend for an evening, impress his family, and then never be heard from again. Despite being at Hosei for an entire year, however, he can't think of anyone he'd trust. The only people in his life are his teammates and casual flirtations, and Tooru can't decide which option would be worse. He chews his lower lip. He could, arguably, hire someone to accompany him, but even that leaves too many variables.

"Damn it," he whispers.

He's got only one option left.

Tooru picks up his phone once more and calls his only option. In a voice of spun sugar and steel, he says, "I need a favor."

~*~

"Are you sure about him?" Tooru asks for the third time as he inspects his reflection. A good first impression is vital, if for no other reason than people are easier to handle while intimidated by his beautiful face. He fiddles with his scarf, trying to find the most attractive way to drape it.

"He's into volleyball, he got a sense of humor, and he's willing to put up with you for an entire day in order to meet your family while pretending to be your fake boyfriend because you don't have the balls to admit to your sister that you lied your ass off even though she already knows you did," Mattsun drawls from where he's flipping through a magazine. Tooru scowls prodigiously in the mirror. "What more do you want? Beggars can't be choosers, Oikawa. You told me to find someone for you and I did." He glances up over the top of the magazine. "So you definitely owe me a favor. And dinner."

"You only did it after you laughed at me for ten minutes," Tooru mutters, not quite loud enough for Mattsun to hear. He doesn't need to give Mattsun an incentive to make returning the favor even worse. A little louder, he points out, "You're only getting dinner if this goes off without a single hitch, understand? What's his name again?"

"Sugawara Koushi." Tooru isn't looking at Mattsun, but he can tell Mattsun is rolling his eyes. "If you can't remember it, you're going to be off to an awfully poor start. Come on, your vanity should be appeased by now. The café is on the far side of campus. Wouldn't be polite to keep him waiting."

Tooru waves that away. "Of course I'm going to remember it." He spends another long moment critically studying his reflection until Mattsun looms in the doorway, eyes narrowed, and Tooru rolls his eyes, brushing past him and exchanging his slippers for shoes. "You'd better be right about him," he warns.

Mattsun's been at Senshu too long, playing with a subpar team, because he no longer reacts to Tooru's threat with the appropriate amount of fear. Instead, he grabs Tooru by the back of his jacket, ignoring Tooru's squawk of dismay, and tows him toward the door. Mattsun hurries Tooru out of his apartment building and onto the street, tilting his face towards the sun with a sigh of relief. Tooru does the same, pleased that winter's hold has finally broken. He enjoys being able to go on his morning runs without bundling up so much his run is more of a waddle.

"Did I tell you what Tanaka-sensei did on Thursday?" Mattsun asks as they make their way to the café, hint of a smile on his face. Tooru shakes his head, and Mattsun immediately launches into yet another story about his genetics professor, all of which Mattsun swears are true despite Tooru's disbelief.

Tooru's caught mid-laugh, reminded why he's lucky Mattsun remained friends with him despite no longer being on the same volleyball team, when Mattsun suddenly pauses, looking pained. As they wait for the light to change across the street from Tooru's prospective fake date, he instructs, "Do try to hide your horrible personality for at least the first five minutes," and only smiles when Tooru scowls. He's wrong—Mattsun is an asshole. "I don't want you to reflect badly on me."

"Too late," Tooru chirps, broad smile on his face. He crosses the street and swans inside the café, glancing around curiously as Mattsun shakes his head and follows him. The café is a little overwarm, and Tooru uses the motion of pulling off his scarf to try and scope out who might be Sugawara in the hopes of gaining some sort of edge. Despite his cavalier attitude, Tooru doesn't have the time to look for someone else, given that Takeru's birthday is in less than a week, so he has no qualms about ruthlessly manipulating whatever hapless person Mattsun convinced to meet Tooru. _Well_ , Tooru amends, _if they're friends with Mattsun, they can't be_ that _hapless..._  
  
That, of course, is when a distinctive silver-haired man picks up his drink from the counter and turns, displaying the mole beneath his left eye as he thanks the barista.

"Ah! Refreshing-kun!" Tooru exclaims in a tone of utter outrage, drawing the attention of every single eye in the room as he points directly at Karasuno's second setter. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Mattsun audibly sighs behind him.

Refreshing-kun smiles slightly, drink in hand as he walks over. "Oikawa-san," he greets. "While I don't mind the title, I think it will make more sense if you refer to me by name while we're in front of your family." The smile widens, a slightly mischievous glint in his eye, and oh, oh _no_ , Mattsun's friends are absolutely not hapless and Tooru plans to rip Mattsun's arm off and beat him to death with it the second they no longer have witnesses. "While we can debate nicknames later, at the very least you ought to call me Suga."

Then, and only then, does Sugawara Koushi, _Suga_ , bow slightly and ask, "Where would you like to talk?"

Before Tooru can do something stupid—stupider—Mattsun tows Tooru towards the line so they can order something while Suga grabs a tucked-away table for them. It's Mattsun who stands there, looking sleepy-eyed and calm, while Tooru hisses, " _That's_ Sugawara Koushi? Are you fucking kidding me? Weren't you going to warn me about that?" Tooru knows how ridiculous he's being but that only fans his temper more. While he certainly remembers Refreshing-kun—Suga—from Karasuno, truthfully, he'd been almost entirely eclipsed by Tobio-chan and his monstrous tiny partner, by their steadfast and certain captain, or even by that genius libero that who'd picked up Watacchi's trick of setting from behind the ten foot line.

However refreshing Suga's style of play had been, and whatever role he'd played in costing Tooru that last match of his high school career, Tooru knew then and knows now that without Tobio-chan's immense skill to disguise Suga's flaws, Tooru would have effortlessly crushed him. As a setter, Tooru barely considers him a threat. However, as a strategist, Tooru despises him. A setter's mark had been all over some of the plays Karasuno had used to defeat Seijoh but they hadn't been Tobio-chan's. Tooru can't help his sudden surge of residual bitterness and however ridiculous, it stings his pride a little to have to ask for Suga's help.

Well, more than a little.

With Hajime, Tooru's outburst would have earned him a volleyball to the head, but Mattsun's almost impossible to fluster. Instead he just arches a brow as he gazes down at Tooru's fuming face. "To be honest, I'd assumed that you'd recognize the name when I told you that he was a volleyball player also from Miyagi even if I didn't specify he was from Karasuno. When you didn't throw a fit about it, I figured you'd either gotten over it and didn't care, or you didn't realize who it was and by the time you figured it out it would be too late anyways."

Tooru hates that he's right. Suga fills every requirement on Tooru's list for this enterprise and arguably best of all, he's not a complete stranger. Tooru is not only going to have to swallow his pride but pretend to be in love with him, because there's no other choice.

"Fine," Tooru growls out, but Mattsun simply continues to look unaffected. He steps up and orders, "Vanilla latte with soy milk." Over his shoulder, he instructs Mattsun, "You're paying."

"Yes, Captain," Mattsun agrees with only a trace of sarcasm. Tooru ignores it in favor of studying Suga out of the corner of his eye. The setter—former rival—prospective fake date—looks utterly unbothered as he drinks his coffee, his own gaze sliding over to Tooru and studying him in turn. Tooru narrows his eyes, refusing to be the first to look away, but somehow that just seems to amuse Suga more. It's only when Tooru's name is called that he breaks their staring contest, ignoring Mattsun's call of, "See you later!" and glides over to the table and sits opposite Suga, crossing one leg over the other.

They stare at each other for a few moments, sizing one another up. Suga clearly has no intention of breaking the silence, so Tooru takes the opening gambit. Besides, attacking first is more his style. "What did Mattsun tell you?"

Suga's fingers wrap around his drink contemplatively. "Enough to intrigue me," he allows, and that makes Tooru raise his eyebrows. Refreshing indeed. He grudgingly appreciates that Suga is as interesting off the court as Tooru remembers him being on it. "He said that you'd claimed you had a boyfriend to your sister and that you're refusing to back down and admit it's a lie even though she also knows it's a lie, which is complicated by the fact that you're supposed to bring said boyfriend to your nephew's birthday this weekend."

Mattsun had summed it up succinctly and Tooru can't tell if it's a good thing or a bad one. "Yes. We'd be traveling up—"

"I haven't agreed yet," Suga interrupts. He offers a brief apologetic smile. "I only said I was intrigued. I don't think that's the whole truth and I don't think this is something I should commit to without it."

Tooru grits his teeth before exhaling and composing himself. If he's going up against a fellow setter, however much less skilled than Tooru is, he'll simply outwit Suga and ensure that he agrees whole-heartedly. "I'm afraid there isn't much more to the story than that," Tooru says with one of his trademarked smiles.

Suga looks unimpressed, which is happening with depressing regularity these days. Neither Mattsun, Makki, nor Hajime are swayed by it anymore, and neither are his current team captain or coaches. He's been reduced to using it on the vice-captain when he wants his way, since Akeyama-senpai always listens to Shi-chan. "I had a little more alcohol than was wise, and my sister—elder by eight years, remember that, there will be an exam after—insisted on discussing my romantic relationships, or lack thereof. As though I'm not busy enough with volleyball and classes." He waved his hand. "So I lied. Unfortunately, I lack my usual restraint and delicacy when I've been drinking and promised I'd bring my boyfriend to Takeru's birthday to prove I was moving on. Thus, a fake date."

Suga frowns like there's still a piece he can't figure out, sharp eyes narrowed. "Your ace," he blurts, just as Tooru is about to press his advantage. He blushes while Tooru looks at him in shock and horrified surprise. "Sorry. It's just—Kageyama explained a little bit about the relationship between you and your ace, once. He said you were childhood friends who'd played together for years and shared a bond of absolute trust. The way he described the pair of you then made it sound like you were, ah, together, whether he realized it or not." He bows his head slightly in genuine apology. "It just hit me now when you were talking. Add in the fact that you mentioned moving on, and it seem to, well, fit."

Tooru's dismayed that Tobio-chan might have picked up on his crush on Hajime, even subconsciously—and the fact that he seems to have communicated it, however unknowingly, to at least one member of Karasuno is almost enough to make Tooru stand up and leave out of sheer embarrassment. Since that would be construed as defeat, Tooru offers a brittle laugh. "You're not entirely wrong," he admits, barreling into the confession with a level of grace that implies it's his idea. "Iwa-chan is my best friend and was my ace when we played together, and I've been in love with him for years."

Suga's eyes widen. Tooru blithely continues, "He has no idea, of course, but my sister has been insisting I either tell him or get over him for years. Since I have no plans to tell him..." He shrugs, all eloquence and easy confidence. "I declared I was over him and would prove it by bringing the boyfriend I was just starting to get serious about home for Takeru's birthday. The only way I can force her to stop pestering me over the situation is to follow through, even if she knows that I just made him up." He glances at Suga through his lashes. "And _that's_ the truth."

Suga looks contemplative for a long moment, then his face creases up in a ridiculously bright, mischievous smile. "My elder sister's name is Emi," he announces. "And if you're going to give me an exam, I'm giving you one too. I assume we've been dating long enough to know about one another's families, after all." He leans forward, a little conspiratorially. "Plus, younger brothers have to stick together to survive. Emi's spent years blackmailing me about anything and everything, and she _still_ demands I let her have the last piece of dessert or else. I can understand wanting to keep your older sister from harassing you for all of five minutes."

Tooru's startled into a laugh, as much relief as amusement. A part of him hadn't thought that Suga would actually agree, let alone seem enthused. "Five minutes? Just wait until you meet Katsumi. I'll be lucky to get five _seconds_."

Suga laughs with him, and with that same mischievous glint in his eyes that had appeared in his smile he admits, "Besides, how many times does someone get to say that they played a starring role in a romance novel come to life? It sounds like the most exciting thing I'll do all year." He holds up a finger. "But—you'll owe me a favor. A _huge_ one."

"Yes, yes," Tooru agrees. Anything that gets him through this weekend will be worth it. "So, you promise you'll come with me as my fake boyfriend?" Suga's comment about romance novels hits him, and he adds hurriedly, "And you absolutely, positively will not fall in love with me? I'm sure it will be hard to resist my charms but I am _not_ interested. My heart belongs completely to Iwa-chan." He presses a hand to his chest. "No offense."

A wicked little smirk makes an appearance, and Tooru doesn't even have a second to be unnerved before Suga assures, "None taken. I don't think I'll have to try very hard to resist, though. You are _definitely_ not my type."


	2. In Which Tooru Sees An Unexpected Guest

As Tooru pulls up in front of Suga's apartment, he comes trotting out with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder and a pair of boxes in his hands—one with balloon-studded wrapping paper and one filled with traditional sweets. Although Tooru had insisted that the gift he'd gotten for Takeru would be a joint present, Suga had clearly ignored him. Tooru scowls as Suga deposits everything in the back seat. "Are you trying to oust me as the favorite son?" he asks suspiciously.

"I thought that was Iwaizumi-san," Suga replies as he shuts the back door and settles himself in the passenger's side, checking over his shoulder to make sure that his belongings are secure. "You seemed quite clear on that point when we discussed your family. I'm still rather glad that Iwaizumi-san isn't able to attend, to be honest. I'd be terrified to have him as a brother-in-law. And of course I brought something for your parents. If I was seriously meeting your family for the first time I'd never arrive empty-handed."

"I'm already regretting telling you anything about my family," Tooru complains, maneuvering back into the snarl of Tokyo's streets. "Let me guess, all matcha or chocolate flavored?" At Suga's smug look, Tooru rolls his eyes. "I don't know why I expected anything different, Refreshing-kun."

"Neither do I," Suga agrees with a serene smile on his face.

Tooru snorts but finds his mouth twitching despite his best efforts.

They fill the long drive practically at first, reviewing last minute details about each other and their supposed dating history. It's not long before Suga starts suggesting ever more outrageous things for them to have done in the most benign of voices, however, which means that Tooru can't help but match him. Ultimately they agree that their recent most date involved a hot air balloon and feeding strawberries to one another while watching the sunset before collapsing into giggles.

Were Hajime not so horribly afraid of heights, Tooru would try to drag him on a hot air balloon ride, if only for the novelty and grandiosity of it. He'd even bring strawberries for them to feed to one another. He's particularly fond of strawberries, and if given the chance, would want to kiss the taste of them off Hajime's lips. It makes Tooru wonder where Hajime would take him on a date, in some world where they ended up together.

"Tooru?" Suga prompts gently, and Tooru turns a glossy, determined smile towards him.

It's easy to deflect the conversation towards Suga's desire to become a math teacher and oversee a school's volleyball team, asking question after question like he isn't half-distracted by thoughts of Hajime. Suga lights up, hands gesturing a little as he answers, explaining his plans with almost absurd detail. Mischief-making aside, even Tooru can see it would be an amazing fit for Suga despite Tooru's own instinctive revulsion at the prospect of being consigned to looking after a bunch of snot-nosed brats until he died. So Tooru holds his tongue and is rewarded when their discussion wanders to Tooru's classes, then to what they do with their little free time, only for Tooru to be distracted by a song on the radio and egg Suga on to sing along—and then they're finally pulling into the Oikawa driveway faster than Tooru expected.

Tooru exhales, and prepares for battle.

He stares at his childhood home, eyes narrowed as he plots out his attack. "My aunt and uncle aren't here yet, but it looks like my grandparents are. I—"

Before he can get any further, however, Katsumi throws the front door open, eyes bright with excitement and Tooru curses under his breath. "Is that our little Tooru?"

 _Damn it. Was she waiting by the window?_ Tooru wonders. He isn't surprised, exactly, but he'd hoped to refine his siege before announcing his arrival.

"You're here early!" she calls, waving. Tooru turns off the car and climbs out, waving back, and at least has the satisfaction of Katsumi's mouth falling open as Suga emerges. She looks directly at Tooru, eyes huge, and Tooru doesn't need a lifetime of siblinghood to see her expression subtitled, 'Tooru, you moron, _what have you done_?'

"Mi!" Tooru greets brightly. "I'd like you to meet Sugawara Koushi, my boyfriend! Kou-chan, this is my sister, Oikawa Katsumi."

Suga comes forward and bows. "It's very nice to meet you," he says with an earnest smile. For all Tooru's skill at acting, he suspects Suga's dependable aura will be what sell this performance rather than anything Tooru does. He's vaguely annoyed at that, in the petty way Hajime is always scolding him for, and tells his mental Hajime-voice to shut up. "I hope you don't mind my unexpected arrival." There's the faintest hint of innocence in his voice as he offers an enormous and surprisingly genuine smile that almost makes Tooru narrow his eyes at him in judgment before he catches himself and puts an arm around Suga's waist.

"Katsumi? Is it Tooru? You can't leave the door open like this, you're letting out all the heat," Tooru's dad scolds as he comes to the open front door, and then blinks owlishly from behind a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles. "Oh," he says, hesitating when he sees Suga. "Have we met?" he asks, and while from Tooru's mom those words would have been forbidding in the extreme, from his dad they mostly sound bewildered and a little concerned, like he's truly worried he might have forgotten seeing Suga before.

Katsumi is attempting to kill Tooru with nothing more than her mind, judging from the flush of annoyance and frustration in her cheeks, but Tooru links arms with Suga and breezes by her, smug with victory. "Dad, this is Sugawara Koushi, my boyfriend. Kou-chan, this is Oikawa Akemi, my father."

Suga bows again as Tooru's dad continues to regard him with bewilderment. "Katsumi," he asks slowly. "Has Tooru mentioned having a boyfriend before?" Suga freezes, glancing at Tooru for guidance, but Tooru is already turning back to the car to get his things out.

"No," Katsumi replies, crossing her arms.

"Hm," he observes, thoughtful. He pushes up his glasses and then nods as though having come to some conclusion. Tooru doesn't particularly care whether his dad has figured out there's some sort of unspoken duel afoot between his children or not. After all, he generally allows Katsumi and Tooru to work out their squabbles themselves. "Well, it's fairly chilly out. Come inside, Sugawara-kun." With that, he leaves both his children behind.

Tooru pouts. With Suga being ushered inside by his dad, it means Tooru must bring in both their belongings. He'd do it for Hajimethough, so it's only fair that he make this lie as believable as possible and do it here, too.

Another part of him points out that if Hajime was his boyfriend, Tooru would shamelessly make him carry everything until the end of time, because Hajime is a strong brute only good for carrying heavy items.

Tooru's struck with sudden rage and frustration that catches him off guard. All this is because Katsumi can't shut up about Tooru's big, stupid, world-ending crush. Tooru wants so badly for Hajime to be left behind to haul things in and press cold kisses to Tooru's mouth when he's finally inside until they've both warmed up and _it's not fair_. If Tooru can't have the man he loves, he's going to make damn sure that he can have peace and quiet.

He puts his bag over one shoulder and Suga's over the other, and when Katsumi stalks up behind him, he turns and thrusts the gifts into her hands, brusquely demanding, "Carry these."

She takes them but keeps him trapped against the car. Tooru is the tallest member of his family, but only just. Katsumi is a mere four centimeters shorter, and with the glower on her face, she's more intimidating than Tooru wants to admit. "You brought home a fake boyfriend," she growls. "You actually dragged some poor boy home to lie to our family! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"You told me to bring my boyfriend and I did!" Tooru yelps, offended. "You don't get to say that and then act shocked _now_!"

"Yes, well, I didn't think you actually would!" she yells back. "Tooru, seriously, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you? What do you think Mom and Dad are going to say? What are our grandparents going to say? What—" Katsumi makes a noise somewhere between rage and panic and hides her face behind the presents for a moment, moaning. "Fuck, oh fuck, what are they going to say when they find out _I knew about it_?!"

Tooru crosses his arms as best he can while laden with bags and stares at her haughtily, which makes Katsumi grit her teeth. "I haven't once backed down from any challenge, not in all the years that you've known me," he says in what he considers a reasonable tone of voice. "Why in the world did you think it was going to be any different this time?"

"You—you—" Katsumi starts, furious—then her sense of humor abruptly kicks in and she has to support herself on him, she's laughing so hard. Tooru exhales with relief. "You—you actually brought a fake date," she wheezes. "You, the one person who has never bothered to bring anyone home for a formal introduction, you brought a fake date home to prove a point. You are terrible at relationships, and so—fake date—that poor boy—" Then she's off again, tears streaming down her face with the force of her giggles. "Trapped—inside—with them," she gasps, wiping at her face, before trying to sound normal. "You're on your own for handling the family," she warns, lips twitching. "You've dug yourself this hole." She covers her eyes again briefly. "You literally have the worst ideas, I can't believe that I'm related to you. I cannot— _cannot—_ fucking believe you did this," she chides, then laughs again. "Who am I kidding? I _absolutely_ believe you did this."

"You're so mean, Mi," Tooru whines, pouting in a way that Takeru learned from Tooru, rather than the other way around. "And what stunt are you talking about? Kou-chan _is_ my boyfriend and I love him very, _very_ much." He's nothing if not thorough and dedicated, and Katsumi gazes up at heaven as though any of the gods could possibly control Tooru. "And you should give Kou-chan a lot more credit. He's gentle, sweet, dependable—" Katsumi wrinkles her nose and Tooru stamps his foot. "What! I can like those things!" Katsumi gives him another dubious look that speaks volumes before turning neatly on her heel. "I mean it!" he shouts as he hurries to catch up with her.

The two of them practically trip over one another as they tumble inside, complaining and jostling one-another good-naturedly. "I'm home! Kou-chan!" Tooru trills as they take their shoes off. "Where are you?"

"Welcome home! In the kitchen, Tooru!" his mom calls, and Tooru suppresses a wince as he drops off his and Suga's belongings in the living room and follows the sound of her voice. His mom is more astute than his dad and he's not sure how she'll react to Suga. "That took you long enough," she notes as he enters, hugging her briefly.

Suga's been tasked with cutting peppers and is failing miserably, so Tooru takes over for him without a word, earning himself a nearly inaudible sigh of relief and a smile. "We didn't think you'd be in so early, or we wouldn't have had your grandparents take Takeru out to bring some desserts home. They ought to be back soon, though." She checks the pork belly in the pot on the stove and then comes back to the table, where her own pile of vegetables awaits. She nods approvingly at Tooru's busy hands, as though he's passed some sort of test, and gives Suga mushrooms to scrub. "It's good to see you, darling."

"It's good to be home, if only for a few hours." He briefly tilts his head toward Suga, and introduces him for the third time. "Mom, this is Sugawara Koushi, my boyfriend. Kou-chan, this is my mom Oikawa Reiko."

"We've met. We were actually discussing his program before you interrupted us, you know," his mom teases with a smile. Then, dismissing Tooru entirely, she returns her evidently fascinating conversation with Suga about teaching and some of the changes to the school system that were upcoming in the next couple of years, the pair of them animated and deeply invested in alterations Tooru only half understands the importance of.

It's more than a little weird that she's completely ignored his pronouncement that Suga is his boyfriend, and Tooru can't decide whether that's something he should press her on. It's not like her to say nothing, one way or another. Ultimately, however, he decides that holding his tongue is the wiser course of action. Until his grandparents return, at least, Tooru can sit here and chop vegetables and monitor the situation.

There's only so much discussion of classroom dynamics he can be expected to absorb, however, before his mind wanders off. He finds himself debating how best to get voted vice-captain for this coming year and the alliances that he's going to have to forge this upcoming season. It helps that even as a first year he was Hosei's pinch server and backup setter, but his fingers are already itching to be on a court, working with Takana, who is shaping up to be their next ace and is one of their best passers other than their libero. He finishes with the peppers, putting them into a bowl, and starts in on the carrots when the door opens again and several voices call out greetings, interrupting Tooru's musings about volleyball.

He abandons his chopping immediately, barely noticing his mom wave him out with a smile as he rushes to greet his nephew in the entrance. Takeru crosses his arms as Tooru strides up to him, attempting to look too cool for hugs. Tooru ignores it and embraces him thoroughly amidst protests, crying, "Happy birthday!" before demanding to know how volleyball is going and whether he and the other children Tooru used to coach miss him.

"You're so annoying! All you think about is volleyball!" Takeru complains, wrinkling his nose. He looks proud, though, as he boasts, "But I don't know, I guess it's pretty cool that I'm going to be a starting wing spiker this year."

"Congratulations!" Tooru smiles slyly. "You'll have to ask Uncle Hajime if he's got any tips for you when he's home for Golden Week. He's still the best wing spiker I ever played with. In the meantime, if you're good, I'll show you some ways to improve your serving while I'm here. The net's still set up in the backyard, isn't it? We can practice a little later this afternoon, before it gets too chilly again."

Takeru rolls his eyes. "You just want to show off," he accuses, and although he's not wrong, he's also smart enough to know he's being offered an opportunity. Tooru is rewarded for holding his tongue, though, when Takeru pauses and then asks, "Promise to show me how to do a float serve?"

Tooru grins. "Yes. A good ace always has tricks up his sleeve. You're going to impress your coach if you keep practicing." He offers to shake on it, and Takeru takes his hand solemnly.

When Tooru straightens, his granny smiles at him, light gleaming in her eyes. If Tooru's dad is the most laid-back person in the world, it's only because he inherited it from his mother. "Tooru," she sighs, smile widening. "I'm glad you made it." He hugs her and takes the desserts from her with a grandiose bow which makes her laugh.

"It wasn't a bad drive," he assures. He offers the same hug and bow to his mom's parents, careful not to jar the sweets in the process. Tooru's grandfather doesn't look particularly amused at Tooru's antics, but Tooru can count on one hand the number of times his expression changed. The recent most smile had been when Takeru was born. His grandma purses her lips, raising a brow, and Tooru raises one right back before announcing, "I want to introduce you to someone—he's in the kitchen. Go there when you're all sorted, okay? I'll put these in the fridge for after dinner."

Tooru makes his escape, however temporary, skirting past Katsumi in the hall. "Aunt and Uncle will be here soon, I just got a text from Mai. Heads up, sounds like all five of them are coming after all," she says as she passes. "Mai's going to be staying over, do you mind getting the spare sheets on your bed set up?"

"Fine." He heaves a dramatic sigh, making Katsumi roll her eyes. Tooru suppresses a laugh; having seen it just moments ago on Takeru's face, he can officially say that his nephew picked up the expression from his mother wholesale. "Let me just put these in the fridge and introduce everyone to Kou-chan!"

"You'd better remember," Katsumi mutters, but Tooru just blows her off with a wink.

"Kou-chan, did you miss me?" Tooru demands as he enters the kitchen, pausing briefly to press his lips to the mole on Suga's cheek. Suga takes it as his due, just like they practiced. "I missed you!" He doesn't wait for Suga's response, opening the fridge and re-arranging the contents so the desserts fit neatly inside. He starts salivating a little at the chocolate cheesecake, and makes a note to set aside one of the fruit parfaits for Suga before Katsumi and Takeru eat them all.

"Of course," Suga replies, and when Tooru comes back in reach he takes a moment to tangle their fingers together. Tooru appreciates the gesture more than he's expecting. He's never actually brought anyone home, not like this, and even if it's for show, it's comforting. He's been called flighty about relationships before, especially when people don't think he's paying attention, and it hurts more than he wants to admit. He doesn't know how his family will take his breakup with Suga, after taking him home. But if Tooru was going to back out of this, the time for that would have been before he pulled into the driveway.

Besides, Tooru has his eye on a very specific prize.

Despite his determination, he finds himself in a cold sweat as his grandparents appear. When Katsumi sidles in around the back of everyone, clearly intending to watch the potential ruination of her brother in finest sibling tradition, Tooru sticks out his tongue at her briefly, only for Katsumi to pretend she's a monkey, blowing out her cheeks and tugging on her ears which is _not fair_ and disrupts Tooru's attempt at being serious.

Suga squeezes Tooru's fingers, and he glances at Suga, surprised, then reassured. Whatever else, Suga made this decision of his own volition and apparently intends to follow through. "Everyone," Tooru begins, "this is Sugawara Koushi, my boyfriend. Kou-chan, these are my grandparents, Oikawa Daisuke and Haruko, and Fujiwara Chouko."

"I'm very pleased to meet you," Suga says, standing and bowing. "Pardon the intrusion."

Tooru notices his grandfather's eyes narrow, but it's his grandma who greets Suga with a certain amount of polite confusion. "Sugawara-kun, was it? It's, uh, nice to meet you?" His granny, on the other hand, seems to be having an entire silent conversation with her daughter-in-law that Tooru is not nearly skilled enough to read. There's a moment of silence that Suga endures easily until Tooru's grandma inquires awkwardly, "How did you and Tooru meet?"

"We have a mutual friend, actually. One of Tooru-kun's former teammates, Matsukawa-kun, is at Senshu with me. We were in a math class together, as well as playing volleyball together sometimes." Suga offers a smile. That only makes Tooru's grandfather narrow his eyes more, for some reason, but his grandma nods, glancing between Suga and Tooru.

"That's admirable," she murmurs, and doesn't seem to know where to go from there.

Thankfully, Takeru comes skidding in with a grin. "Aunt and Uncle are here!" he crows as the front doorbell rings, breaking the uncertain tension that Tooru hadn't exactly been sure how to parse. It hadn't felt like discomfort with the situation so much as confusion, and Tooru makes a note to try and figure it out later.

"Who's that?" Takeru demands bluntly a second later as he notices Suga. "Wait, is he the boyfriend that I heard Mom talking about? Gross." He wrinkles his nose. Tooru sees Suga's eyes widen for a moment but before Tooru can reassure him, Takeru lifts chin and goes, "I can't believe you want to kiss. Kissing is _so_ gross, and it involves _tongues touching_. I don't want to date anyone."

"Is that so?" Tooru teases, and sweeps Suga into his arms as Takeru complains loudly about how disgusting Tooru is. Suga keeps laughing into the kiss, ruining it. "We'll be sure to kiss in front of you as often as possible, then, Takeru, and ruin your birthday completely."

"What's all this fuss?" Tooru's aunt asks from the doorway. Tooru's dad must have let her in, and he can just barely see two of his three cousins crowded around her, Mai wriggling around her mother to give Katsumi an enormous hug as the two of them immediately start discussing a new movie they'd just seen. Rumi continues texting on her phone, looking annoyed at life in general. "Why is everyone crowded in here?"

That, of course, ends up being the signal for everyone to vacate the kitchen so that Suga can be properly interrogated. Tooru had expected a fair amount of surprise, if only because Suga is the first person Tooru has ever properly introduced, but the atmosphere is even weirder than he's expecting, and he catches Grandfather muttering something about doctors being better than teachers when Tooru is sent to get his room ready for Mai, then forced to cut vegetables in the kitchen, both under the painfully obvious pretext of wanting to be able to grill Suga privately.

Still, as several of Takeru's friends arrive and Tooru's granny goes to help his mom do the actual cooking, he manages to drag Suga outside for a moment of peace near while Takeru's friends play on the outdoor volleyball court Tooru had left set up. Both Tooru and Suga occasionally call out advice, but mostly they let the kids have fun with their three vs. three match.

"We survived," Suga comments, stretching a little.

"We did," Tooru agrees, sighing. "I knew we would, of course, because this was my idea." He tosses his head a little to make his hair fall perfectly, winking, which makes Suga laugh at him. Tooru wraps his arms around Suga's shoulders and twirls him around a little, crooning, "Kou-chan, Kou-chan, you're so _lucky_ to have such a talented and intelligent and pretty boyfriend—"

Hajime stands on the grass, box under his arm, looking poleaxed.

Tooru freezes, Suga gripping Tooru's arm as he's thrown off-balance by the sudden lack of momentum. _He must have come through the fence when he heard volleyball being played_ , Tooru's mind helpfully provides. The Oikawa house is his second home. There's no need for formality, not with Tooru. Never with Tooru. Desperately, Tooru tries to think of something witty or charming to say, or even something _stupid_ to say, but all he can blurt out is, "You—you weren't supposed to be here!"

It's far more accusatory than Tooru intends. There's stupid things that Tooru could have said, and there's—that. It's cruel.

Hajime flinches.

Tooru would never have tried this stunt if he'd known that Hajime was coming. He'd have suffered Katsumi's taunts instead and been grateful for it. "I—you—exams!" Tooru exclaims sensibly, and finally lets go of Suga like he's on fire—or maybe it's Tooru who's on fire. Every bit of skin certainly feels like it's burning. He points a finger at Hajime. "I asked for weeks if you'd be able to make it!"

Hajime crosses the grass and porch steps in silence, strain around his eyes, and Tooru would rather he be angry. Baffled doesn't look very good on his handsome features. He wonders if this is what it's like to have an arrhythmia because his heart pounds in a sick, strange beat and he's feeling light-headed.

"I didn't think I could," Hajime says after too long. "But my study group broke early, and I know the material, and I've been at every one of Takeru's birthday parties since he was _born_ , and I..." When he trails off, he swallows. His eyes are glowing with light from the setting sun, picking up the golden tones in his skin, and medical school hasn't left him any less brawny. Tooru _has_ to stare. "I thought I'd surprise you."

"I am very, very surprised," Tooru croaks. If he vomits right now he will never forgive himself. He realizes, belatedly, that he should have thrown himself into Hajime's arms the way he normally would but it's too late now. He wishes he had, because he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to again. Tooru doesn't need clairvoyance to see that he's wanted too much, like he always does, and he's definitely burning. The shame and guilt and red-hot love lick at his skin, an exquisite torture.

However, Tooru has never, not once, done anything by halves, so he boldly takes Suga's hand, earning himself a startled glance, and declares, "This is Sugawara Koushi, my boyfriend."

Then, because he's only human, he breathes, "I'm sorry."

Hajime's entire face shutters for a second before he's back to his usual gruff demeanor, and he gives a short nod of greeting to Suga. "Iwaizumi Hajime. Pleased to meet you."

Suga bows again, respectful, and replies in kind. Tooru doesn't really hear the few words they exchange with one another over the roar of his pulse in his ears. Suga glances at him from the corner of his eye, taking a half-step closer and resting his hand at the small of Tooru's back. He follows Tooru's lead and acts the part of the concerned boyfriend—except Tooru knows him well enough by now to know that Suga _is_ concerned, and that's even worse. Tooru wants to slap Suga's hand away.

There's a clatter from the house, and suddenly Katsumi nearly barrels through the screen door to the backyard in a way she hasn't since she and Tooru were children, only to force a smile onto her face the second she realizes she's too late to warn Tooru of Hajime's imminent arrival. "Hajime-kun!" she greets with surprise and no small amount of consternation, immediately calling in all the stops to distract him. "Takeru!" she calls, and Takeru scowls when he misses his attempted spike. "Look who's here!"

"Mom! Can't you—Uncle Hajime!" Takeru lights up, anger vanishing in the face of seeing the only member of his family that had been missing. He darts across the grass and throws himself into a hug. Hajime lifts him up effortlessly, perpetual scowl broken for a moment. "When did you get here? I thought you wouldn't be able to make it this year! How are you? I'm going to be a starting wing spiker this year, and Uncle Tooru said he'd show me a few things today! You should too!"

"Of course I will," Hajime agrees, setting Takeru back on the ground and ruffling his hair. It's so easy and natural that Tooru feel like his whole chest is being squeezed in a vice.

Katsumi mouths, "I'm sorry." Tooru just shakes his head slightly, and again when Suga touches his arm briefly. Somehow, it's only made worse by the fact that they both know that his heart is shattered and there's nothing that can fix this. It's done now—well, done except for the conversation that Tooru is dreading but he knows Hajime will force him to have before Tooru leaves tonight. He'd let Tobio-chan beat him on the national stage—the _world_ stage—to avoid this fucking conversation. Katsumi gives him one last worried glance then announces brightly, "Perfect timing, Hajime-kun. Dinner is ready. Everyone come on in!"

Tooru steps back and lets Takeru and his friends kick off their shoes on the porch, then run into the house. Normally the smell of yakisoba and dumplings would make Tooru's stomach rumble but he just feels faintly nauseated. Katsumi herds the boys in, clearly trying to give Tooru, Suga, and Hajime some privacy. Suga glances between the pair of them for a moment, and the normal warmth and teasing in his eyes muted. Tooru gestures for Suga to go inside, and with one last lingering look, he obeys.

Hajime stands there, half shadowed by the setting sun, but before he says anything, Tooru blurts, "Can we—after? I don't want someone to come fetch us." The only thing worse than the conversation looming would be having someone witness any part of it. His hands tremble.

Hajime really must know him better than anyone else in the universe, except for the one thing that matters, because his face softens and he nods. He gruffly holds out his arms. "Well?" he mutters. "You never said hi properly."

Tooru leaps into the hug Hajime offers, and it doesn't matter that Tooru is taller; Hajime's body is warm and more solid than mountains and he even smells like the plain old soap he's been using since he was three years old. Tooru shamelessly clings as Hajime wraps him up tight. Tooru's shitty at keeping the worst of his thoughts under control, and the fear's already eating away at him, but for just a moment, Hajime makes him feel like this will turn out alright.

Then Tooru pulls away. He knows it won't turn out alright, so he plasters on his brightest, boldest smile, weirdly relieved when the mere presence of that particular smile makes Hajime reflexively fist his hand to hit him. "Let's go eat now, before Takeru attempts to fill his hollow leg and polishes everything off."

"You're one to talk, Oikawa," Hajime says, rolling his eyes, and Tooru can do this. He can keep breathing. "I've seen you finish two bowls of ramen and dumplings and still want milk bread."

"Iwa-chan, it's _milk bread_ ," he reminds as he takes Hajime's arm and leads him inside. He's hyper-aware of every place they're touching, but he _will_ do this. He _will_ keep breathing.

Tooru continues to think he's capable of surviving, brain and smile on autopilot, right up until dinner and dessert are eaten, when Hajime has the opportunity to drag him back outside. It's night now, and chilly out, and Tooru can neither do this _nor_ breathe, let alone both.

"Well?" Hajime demands. Tooru quails a little at his expression. "What the fuck is going on? You're _dating_ someone? And you didn't _tell me_? And it's—it's that _setter_ from _Karasuno_?!"

Tooru laughs, but it's a high, nervous sound. "My, my," he says. "You sound like you're jealous!" He expects to get hit for that—deserves it, really—but Hajime just balks for a moment, real pain flashing over his face, before he narrows his eyes, and Tooru knows his attempt at distraction won't work. As much as Tooru likes to tease Hajime about his caveman brain, the fact of the matter is that Hajime is undoubtedly smarter than Tooru in almost every type of academics, as though to make up for the fact that he's terrible at people.

With the exception of one person: Tooru.

"Why," Hajime asks softly, with the kind of kindness Tooru's heart can't bear, "didn't you want me to know? Why am I finding out like this?"

Hajime knows Tooru inside and out, knows him well enough that Tooru can't even distract him with an argument properly. Despite that, Hajime is also fucking _shit_ at understanding Tooru's motivations sometimes; over the years Tooru has dropped five million _billion_ hints, has done everything he can to get through to Hajime short of outright serving his heart into Hajime's stupid _face_ and yet Hajime remains painfully oblivious despite knowing Tooru better than anyone else on the planet _._

And so Tooru has to witnessHajime scowl, then demand, "Is it because Sugawara is a guy?"

In that moment, if Tooru murdered him, it would be justifiable homicide because Hajime's jumped to a conclusion so far off base he's not even in the same galaxy anymore.

Hajime, wholly ignorant of the fact that Tooru's plotting his death, snarls, "Shittykawa, I was the first person you told that you were bisexual, did you really think that seeing it would be what pushes me over the edge? I told you, didn't I? You're a partner I can be proud of! Always! There's not anyone I care about more, asshole!" He punches Tooru, and it hurts, and if Tooru had half of Hajime's ridiculous gorilla strength, he'd take that arm right off and start beating Hajime with it. "The only thing that I care about is that you're _happy_."

Tooru swallows, wholly unprepared for that, and Hajime shakes his head, sighing. "You always tell me that I'm terrible with people," he grumbles. "You're the one that's always keeping them at arm's length. If you..." He crosses his arms, and the angry scowl on his face is belied by the faint flush in his cheeks. "If he's important enough to bring home to meet your family, Crappykawa, he's important enough to for me to get to know, right?" He rubs the back of his head awkwardly. "You can tell me anything. You're supposed to be able to tell me _anything_."

Tooru's chest feels tight again, and his heart is suffering from arrhythmia again, and it's not fair that Tooru is about to burst into tears because Hajime is saying everything wrong yet everything right.

Tooru can't handle any of this.

"I think you've said more in the past ten minutes than you have in ten years," Tooru says with admirable composure. "I guess medical school is good for something after all, since you've finally upgraded from grunts after all these years—" and then he has to shriek, because Hajime is coming after him. He gets Tooru into some sort of heathen hold he can't get out of until Tooru stops insulting him and starts begging for mercy instead.

Tooru deserves a Japanese Academy Prize for best actor, because not once do Tooru's insides stop wobbling precariously in a way that is devastating and terrifying, but although Hajime gives him a few lingering looks as Tooru rights himself, he doesn't press. Tooru doesn't know what he'd do if Hajime did, but all he wants to do now is lick his wounds in private. He tries to head back inside, but Hajime stops him at the last second, hand broad and warm. Tooru is dead and this is hell, because the earnest look Hajime gives him has killed him.

"Hey, Oikawa—Tooru—I mean it. You know you can tell me anything, right?" Hajime looks almost nervous, like he genuinely thinks Tooru is going to say no, but Tooru can't help but keep focusing on the way Hajime had spoken his name. He only uses it when he really, truly needs Tooru to listen, and it's an unfair advantage. They'd shifted to last names when Hajime had declared that they were adults, but Tooru's never been able to stop from thinking of Hajime as, well, Hajime, no matter how easily Iwa-chan springs to his lips these days.

"Hajime, there's no one I trust more than you," Tooru promises. It's even the truth, so he lets Hajime study him intently for a moment, scowl vanishing for a moment and he's so—so _him_ that Tooru is breathless.

"Alright," Hajime agrees, ruffling Tooru's hair and grinning when it earns him a squawking protest. "We promised Takeru some advice, didn't we? Let's go help Miyagi's next top ace. Oh—and, ah—congratulations."

Tooru can barely muster the voice to thank him, but Hajime isn't done ruining Tooru's life yet.

"We should hang out during Golden Week, you know. He's from around here, isn't he? I want to meet him properly. So make something happen, okay, Oikawa?"

Tooru's eyes widen, but he can't think of a single excuse. Hajime watches him, patient, until Tooru he grins broadly to hide his defeat, saying, "I suppose we can make some sort of arrangement. But you have to promise you're not going to scare him off with that terrifying caveman scowl of yours—brute!"

Tooru ducks Hajime's attempt to grab him and sprints inside, never letting the despair in the pit of his stomach show on his face.


	3. In Which Tooru Strikes a Deal

Tooru used to make fun of the romance novels Katsumi consumed so avidly as a teenager, especially when they contained the old trope of miscommunication. How hard could it possibly be to just speak one's mind to the person you're supposed to trust more than anyone else in the world—and if you truly loved the person so much, shouldn't you trust them enough to tell them the truth? After all, the longer a lie is maintained, the worse the betrayal is going to feel and the more likely the relationship will give way, rusted through while no one was speaking.

Tooru understands those characters now.

The fear eats away at him like acid, tearing up muscle and bone inside him. It's not even the fact that Tooru had brought Suga home to prove a point to Katsumi that he can't bring himself to explain; Hajime probably wouldn't even rank it in the top ten dumbest things Tooru has done because of his pride.

It's the fact that Hajime would demand to know what point he had been so desperate to prove, and Tooru cannot—will not—tell Hajime that he's been in love with him, his ace, his best friend, and his partner for so long that Tooru doesn't even know when it started. There isn't a single lie that Tooru can think of that Hajime wouldn't poke a thousand holes into until Tooru eventually cracked and spilled his guts across the floor. Stupidly, all he can think about is the day after their graduation, when Tooru had gotten drunker than he'd even been in his _life_ to drown out both the agony of leaving Hajime behind and the inescapable warmth of Hajime's body beside his own. He'd spent all night vomiting.

It's possible that Tooru has never handled his affection well.

Hajime would probably— _probably_ —not reject Tooru immediately. But no matter how Tooru spins it, however, their relationship would be fundamentally changed afterwards. The enormity of Tooru's feelings would intrude everywhere, into every phone call and laugh and lingering touch until Hajime, or worse, Tooru, was forced to put distance between them out of sheer self preservation. Tooru's going to rattle himself apart over the nausea that's following that acidic fear. Tooru will lie, and lie, and lie, just to selfishly make sure that he doesn't have to watch Hajime struggle to come to terms with Tooru's overwhelming affection.

Tooru will take the security of Hajime's friendship over the possibility of a romantic relationship in a heartbeat and is willing to do whatever it takes to protect that friendship, even from himself.

Honestly, Hajime shouldn't even be surprised; Tooru's always been selfish, petty, and demanding.

"We can break up," Suga offers, and Tooru jumps at the sound of his voice. Suga hadn't said a word since they'd gotten into the car over an hour ago, and the darkness had all too easily left Tooru mired in his own thoughts. He's not looking at Tooru, which is a mercy, but his voice doesn't give a hint as to his feelings and Tooru can't see his expression well enough to hazard a guess. "Or, rather, you can call Iwaizumi-san later tonight and say we got into an argument and we broke up, so I won't be around during Golden Week." He shrugs. "I don't mind being the villain. I feel a _little_ like it's my fault this happened, anyways."

"It's _not_ your fault," Tooru says, the words uncompromising. He absolutely hates that Suga's offer smacks something of pity—or perhaps sympathy, which is no better. Tooru fucked up, so Tooru will think of a solution. "I'm not going to throw you under the bus." A smile tugs at Suga's lips, something smug tucked into the corners. "What?" he snaps.

"I thought you might say that. You don't want to make me the villain, and you don't want to confess the truth, which leaves one more option. We keep up the deception," Suga says calmly, like it's the only obvious solution. "I was already planning to be home for Golden Week, and I'm not that far of a drive away from you. We'll break up sometime afterwards, but before summer, so you can have time to 'get over' the relationship before you see Iwaizumi-san again."

"And you're _okay_ with that?" Tooru demands, but it's not a rejection. "Isn't that a little too far for you? It's one thing to lie about a relationship for a single evening when at least my mom and sister think I'm full of shit and the rest of my family is waiting to hear about the inevitable breakup in a matter of weeks anyways. It's another thing to keep this up for most of a week for—" Tooru gestures vaguely, but can't quite manage to put any words together in case they're wrong. He hadn't even considered this as an option; he'd assumed Suga would bail the instant he found out about Hajime wanting to get to know him, but Suga has a somewhat disturbing habit of surprising him.

"For the free food because you're definitely paying for every meal?" Suga asks, far too innocent. "For the knowledge that one day you will owe me a very, very large favor? For the opportunity to shock your family when I actually show up again, making them think that you might not actually be full of shit?" He glances down at his hands, sly smile on his face. "I think all of that would be fun, actually, and wildly entertaining."

Tooru stares at him, unnerved. "You're actually a demon beneath that charming exterior, aren't you?"

Suga shrugs. "If I am, you're the one making a deal with me," he teases, and Tooru considers how offended Suga would be if Tooru went to the temple and got cleansed after all this. Not as offended as he ought to be, Tooru finally decides, and he'd probably laugh himself sick in the process.

"Fine," Tooru says, and Suga's mouth twitches.

"Don't make it sound like such a burden," he scolds, snickering. He sobers just a little, clearly seeing how unsure Tooru is, but his voice is still light as he chides, "What, did you think you were the only person who's ever done something stupid in the name of getting over a hopelessly unrequited crush of one of your dearest friends? This is nothing."

"You did something stupid for a crush?" Tooru leaps on the idea instantly, eager for gossip to distract him. "Who?" His eyes light up. "It's that captain of yours, isn't it? Sama—Sawamura, or something like that. He seems a little—boring for you, to be honest. The sort of good that you only find in manga and dramas."

Suga throws up his hands. "Why does everyone assume it's Daichi?" he moans. "Is it something I've said or done? I know it's nothing _he's_ said or done." He sighs heavily. "No, Oikawa, it's not Daichi." His smile goes a little lopsided. "You're hardly the first setter to fall in love with your ace, and you absolutely won't be the last." Tooru stares so long at Suga that he warns, "Watch the road! If I die because you expected me to be in love with Daichi instead of Asahi I'm going to spend the rest of eternity making you regret it. I really don't understand what's so surprising about it."

"I wouldn't have pegged you for the type to be into the rugged mountain-man look, even if he's softer than tofu on the inside," Tooru explains. "That shave-headed second year of yours was without a doubt the strongest mind on the team, but I think a stiff mental breeze would topple that ace of yours. You'd break him within six months. Three if you were feeling feisty."

Suga scowls at Tooru and punches him solidly in the arm. "Asshole. I would not have broken Asahi, he's a lot stronger than he acts. He was our ace, after all, and could go toe-to-toe with anyone in the prefecture." He sniffs. "But that's all a moot point—it's not going to happen anyways. Asahi never knew about how I felt, and besides, he's dating Noya. He confessed on graduation day, if you can believe it. Noya did, I mean." Tooru rolls his eyes; as though he'd actually expect Suga's ace to man up enough to confess to anyone. "Anyways, he told Asahi that he wouldn't let him leave without an answer." Suga's voice goes a little soft, a little aching, an old heartache woven with old amusement, and Tooru feels a little uncomfortable just hearing it.

Then Suga gives himself a shake and adds wryly, "They've been going strong for a year, and Noya's probably going to be looking for some sort of work in Sendai now that he's graduated, too. I wouldn't be surprised if they're it for one another. They always were like puzzle pieces, meant to fit together perfectly." Now he just sounds wistful, and Tooru has to look away.

"Who's Noya?" Tooru asks, rather than confront the rest of Suga's confession.

"Huh? Oh, he was the libero on our team—Nishinoya Yuu." Suga glances at Tooru, ridding himself of that melancholy with an ease that Tooru knows all too well, and he finds himself doing as Suga had earlier, and tangling their fingers together in a moment of solidarity. Suga grins, and despite everything, the wickedness in it warms Tooru's heart. "So. We'll keep 'dating', you're going to spoil me, and if you're lucky, I'll forget about this sometime before I die."

Tooru lets his head thump back against the seat. "I have a feeling I'm going to regret this _immensely_."

~*~

"And you say _I_ have the terrible personality!" Tooru cries, but that doesn't stop Mattsun from nearly choking on his laughter. It doesn't help that Suga can't keep a straight face either. "Promise me," he demands, glaring at Mattsun. "You can't tell Iwa-chan about any of this!"

Mattsun finally manages to get his expression under control the but mirth in his eyes lets Tooru know that as soon as he thinks he can get away with it, he'll start laughing again. "I promise," he says, holding up a hand. "What's the lie you told everyone? That I introduced the pair of you?"

Sullenly, Tooru nods. "At a party."

Mattsun's lips twitch again. "So did the pair of you fuck that night or—" Laughing again, Mattsun avoids Tooru's attempt to tackle him to the floor and smother him with a pillow. Tooru needs to get much, much better friends, but he's stuck with these two morons until he can finally upgrade. "I'm just trying to get my story straight," he continues, keeping the kotatsu between them. Tooru considers whether the table can take his weight if he jumps from it onto Mattsun. "Don't you dare!" he shouts, but it's too late. Tooru jumps onto the kotatsu, rattling the cups, and leaps for Mattsun, who braces himself from toppling over as Tooru wraps his arms and legs around Mattsun in an attempt to drag him to the floor.

"Save me," Mattsun tells Suga, who just arches a brow. Mattsun staggers, and Tooru redoubles his efforts.

"I'm not sure what you expect me to do," Suga says. "You're both far taller than I am and definitely outweigh me."

"Yes," Mattsun pants, wincing when Tooru manages to pinch his side, "but he's the only one who's working out regularly. I need backup!" He squirms, but Tooru is willing to use himself as a dead weight and Mattsun is slowly folding to the ground. "No," Mattsun whines. He points at Suga with the last of his strength. "Betrayer!"

Suga takes a sip of his tea, and doesn't even try to hide smile creasing around his eyes. "Are you sure we didn't fuck?" he asks, and Tooru whips his head around to face him, attacked on a second front after all. "I'm just saying, if I met you at a party, I certainly wouldn't have objected."

"Oh my _God_ ," Tooru moans, and Mattsun laughs so hard underneath him that Tooru's whole body shakes atop him. "No! We did not sleep together after the party!" Although Tooru has to admit that if they really had met at a party, chances were reasonably high Tooru would have suggested precisely that outcome. Suga is cute and flirtatious and almost definitely the kind of adventurous in bed that would have the neighbors banging on the wall at three in the morning. From the way Suga is smirking at him, he knows the train of Tooru's thoughts, and Tooru wriggles around until he can throw a pillow at Suga, who bats it away. "You're all the worst, understand? Literally all you have to do when we're home is tell Iwa-chan you introduced us at a party, alright? We'll do the rest."

Mattsun sighs from where he's squashed under Tooru. "I should never have introduced the two of you. Only Oikawa would think it's a good idea to keep this up to fool Iwaizumi during Golden Week, and only Suga would agree to it. You're terrible influences on each other. I'm warning you both now that I think it's a terrible idea, and if it comes back to bite you in the ass, that's your own problem but—ugh. I won't tell Iwaizumi any different."

"Actually," Suga corrects mildly, "I was the one who suggested it."

Finally, Tooru's the one that gets to laugh himself sick at the pained expression on Mattsun's face as he mutters, "Never, ever, _ever_ should have introduced you two."

~*~

Tooru finds himself jittery, pacing across his small bedroom as he checks his phone for the umpteenth time. Usually Hajime returns his texts within a couple of hours, and warns Tooru in advance if he'll be incommunicado. Since Takeru's party, though, Tooru's been lucky to get a single text answering the dozen he's sent. He's answering fewer of Tooru's calls, too, and is distracted when he does bother to pick up.

In fact, the only thing that's stayed normal the past three weeks are their Sunday phone calls, and Tooru clings to those for reassurance. Tooru wonders whether Hajime's uncomfortable with him dating a guy after all, despite how ridiculous that sounds—or maybe it's just Suga, due to some unspoken grudge against Karasuno? That's not Hajime's style, though, no matter how bitterly he'd mourned the loss. Or perhaps he's still upset that Tooru apparently never told him anything? Except that doesn't fit either. Although Tooru's never resisted discussing his conquests in the past, he's also never elicited anything other than annoyed instructions that Tooru stop oversharing.

Besides, Hajime isn't the type to bottle his upset the way Tooru is. Hajime would just shout at him, or possibly spike a ball at him, if he was frustrated with Tooru's secret keeping and then it would all be over.

Tooru chews his lip, turning on his heel to begin the next circuit of his room. It's driving Tooru crazy, anger sparking in his gut right next to his fear. Even his teammates have noticed that he's sharper than usual, an edge of ruthlessness that Tooru can't let go of, even as he's distracted by attempts to dissect Hajime's behavior.

Reading Hajime is harder with so many kilometers between them.Tooru doesn't have the slope of his shoulders, or the angle of his brow giving away everything going through his mind. He's never been so far from Hajime that a single glance hadn't revealed almost every one of Hajime's secrets, and a single year of listening mostly to Hajime's voice and reading his texts can't compare to over a decade of invading one another's space. Tooru had tried to get Hajime to talk about whatever was turning him into a hermit only once, and he'd been shut down instantly for his troubles, but Tooru doesn't believe it's mere busyness for an instant.

Tooru's frazzled enough that he dares to ruin his perfect waves and runs his fingers through his hair before checking his phone yet again, as though Hajime might have answered in the last thirty seconds. That's why when Tooru's phone actually does ring, he nearly drops it in shock. "Iwa-chan!" he gasps out. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

" _I'm fine, Trashykawa, what are going on about? Did you work yourself into a freak-out over something stupid again?_ " Hajime sounds somewhere between concerned and constipated, which is at least normal. Tooru exhales and shakes his head, scowling, which Hajime somehow senses because he continues, " _Don't give me that look, you know it's true. Stop worrying and listen, would you? I know you have practice soon, so I won't talk for long. I just wanted to see whether you'd made plans with Sugawara for the evening on Saturday after the festival. I know it's a little last minute, but..._ "

"No," Tooru replies, then gasps in delight. "Iwa-chan! Do you have something planned?" His heart flutters in his chest and he twirls right there in his room, the knot twisted around his core loosening enough that he can breathe again. "You'd better be doing something nice to make up for the fact that you've been grumpier than normal for three whole weeks. You owe me anything I want," he warns lightly, as though it's a joke even though they both know he's deadly serious.

" _You have such a terrible personality,_ " Hajime sighs, but Tooru detects the fondness in it after years of practice. " _If it would please your royal moron-ness, I thought we could do a movie marathon, just you and me. I know you leave early the next morning so... Anyways, I'm sure there are a dozen terrible movies that have come out that you're just dying to make me watch. I'll even bring milk bread_." If that isn't the makings of an apology, Tooru doesn't know what is.

The relief makes Tooru so magnanimous, in fact, that he declares, "The sequel to Pacific Rim is out, so maybe we'll watch both of those since I know you haven't seen it yet. I know how busy you are, doing that doctor thing, or whatever." It's as good as forgiveness. Pacific Rim is one of the only movies they've ever agreed on, even if Tooru comes down firmly on the side of the kaiju while Hajime is obsessed with the jaegers. His good humor isn't affected in the least by the way Hajime mutters something about how he'll put Tooru in the hospital and then they'll see what he thinks about the "doctor thing". Still graciously ignoring Hajime's own, clearly equally terrible personality, Tooru announces, "A double feature! And don't just bring milk bread, bring lots of junk food, too!"

Hajime makes a disgusted noise that makes Tooru grin reflexively. " _I don't understand your tastes. What you call junk food, other people call garbage. Aren't you supposed to be taking care of your body as an athlete?“_

"You just don't think that sweet and salty should be a thing!" Tooru accuses. "You've got an old man's taste buds! There's nothing wrong with salted caramel popcorn! We can't all live on agedashi tofu and miso with extra greens!" He sticks out his tongue, as though Hajime is there to tease and not just a voice over the phone. "Besides, you owe me _anything_ , remember?"

Hajime grumbles for a few minutes before he gives in with an annoyed grunt. " _Alright, alright, but if you feel terrible the next day, it's your fault, not mine_ ," he warns.

"So responsible," Tooru croons, "looking after your captain and best friend and soon to be best setter in the country." He can't wait and pens the information meticulously into his planner, even though he'd never forget. "Don't worry, even if we spend all night drinking I _never_ get hungover."

" _So I've heard_ ," Hajime says. " _Mattsun texted me the other day after that party you dragged him to and told me that he'd made the worst life decision possible, introducing you and Sugawara to each other, since neither of you get hungover like normal people and were, in fact, both awake before eight and cooking food. I'm pretty sure breakfast was the only thing that saved you from getting thrown out the window_."

Tooru laughs, taking a seat on his bed and wiggling his toes. "The fact that it was all Western style bacon and eggs and bread is what did it," he corrects. "I'm sort of surprised that our arteries didn't clog up in reflex from all the grease. Kou-chan was up even earlier than I was, and ran to the grocery store."

There's a strange little pause, then, where Tooru finds himself listening very hard for any indication that Hajime was still on the other line. " _I'm not sure whether I should be glad that someone is cooking for you, given that you can only cook like, four different things, or whether I should be concerned that Sugawara will kill you before you're thirty.“_ Hajime sounds almost normal, but Tooru is getting better and better at listening for the faint differences in his voice and it's there now—that faint, soft strain.

Narrowing his eyes, Tooru comments neutrally, "Probably a combination of both, but you're the one I'm concerned about. At least I have someone cooking for me. Are you actually eating anything other than combini food? Or are you just operating under 'do as I say, not as I do' when you scold me for eating junk food? If you're going to be a good doctor, you shouldn't be such a hypocrite!" he sing-songs, but Hajime's silence is telling enough. He gasps, "You _are_ surviving off combini food, aren't you! Iwa-chan is _the worst_!"

" _I'm a better cook than you are, Crappykawa!_ " Hajime's voice fills with a satisfying amount of rage. " _How many times have you eaten fried rice this week alone?_ " Tooru glances guiltily at the kitchen in reflex, and perhaps Hajime really does know him, because the next thing Hajime says is, " _Dumbass! And I'm not surviving...entirely off combini food. I told you, didn't I? I've been really busy! Besides, the difference is that I'm eating prepackaged meals because I have to, not because I'm just too lazy to cook for myself._ "

"I'm not too lazy!" Tooru objects, but it's a distracted retort. Perhaps Hajime had simply been telling the truth after all; Hajime is too cognizant of the example he ought to set as a doctor to willingly fall into bad habits if he can help it. It had been like that when they played volleyball together, too. If Tooru was the captain who strode forward, who viciously carved the path for them, who took every centimeter offered to him and turned it into a kilometer, it was Hajime who urged their teammates along and convinced them to trust Tooru simply by virtue of leading—well, following—by example.

Tooru stares at his own toes, chewing his lower lip for a moment, a habit he'd thought he'd stopped when he was in middle school but which has made an unsettling resurgence in the last year. Perhaps Hajime really is just as busy as he claims. Perhaps it's that simple. Perhaps the distance between them and the changes that have accompanied that distance mean that Tooru doesn't actually know Hajime as well as he once did.

The most unbearable part is that there's no solution for it, either. Once Hajime's a fully-fledged doctor, the imposition on his time is only going to get worse. Tooru doesn't plan to slack for an instant, either, which means that before long he's going to be training full time as well as traveling for games around the country and possibly around the world—and then what? Where does that leave the two of them? Perhaps meeting once a year, if they're lucky, during Golden Week when they visit their families?

Tooru feels cold. He'd once thought that without a volleyball team to hold him and Mattsun and Makki together, they would inevitably go their separate ways.

He'd never thought to worry about Hajime.

The fact that he evidently should have scares him more than anything has in his entire life.


	4. In Which Tooru Misses the Mark

Tooru's mind buzzes with the fear that he shouldn't have taken Hajime's friendship for granted as he makes himself at home at the Iwaizumi residence late on Wednesday night while waiting for Hajime to arrive. He hasn't managed to stop obsessing about that phone call, considering all the ways he might bind himself tighter to Hajime to ensure that they never manage to disentangle themselves. 

It's not that he believes Hajime is distancing himself deliberately, of course, but Tooru can't help but wonder whether it's easier for Hajime to do so subconsciously. Tooru is needy and aggravating and demanding and petty _and_ perhaps a decade of handling Tooru's—Tooruness is long enough.

Though Hajime might feel that way, however, Tooru is too selfish to let him go. He doesn't understand how anyone can look at the person they love and decide they'd be better off free; Tooru can't bear to even think about it, wants to fight for Hajime instead. But maybe that's what makes him such a horrible person, especially compared to Hajime.

Hajime's driven to help people and looks out for their best interests, even when they're determined to sprint in the wrong direction, and he's spent a lot of time making sure Tooru doesn't sprint in the wrong direction. Tooru's belly churns as he finds himself remembering, again and again, the way Hajime had stopped him from hitting Tobio in their third year of middle school. The way he'd casually accepted every one of Kyoutani's challenges to ensure that he'd stay with the team and give Seijoh a fighting chance against Karasuno. The way he'd taken one look at Tooru's determination to play volleyball and joined him on the court without once looking back, no matter the harassment,annoyances, or idiocy Tooru subjected him to.

He remembers, most acutely, the naked fear on Hajime's face when Tooru had strained his knee in his first year at Aoba Johsai. He'd come into the gym and found Tooru sobbing on the ground. But that's not the part that Tooru remembers—Tooru mostly remembers his calm and steady promises that Tooru would get through this, and that Hajime would help.

He hadn't let go of Tooru's hand the entire trip to the hospital.

"It won't be much longer," Auntie assures, making Tooru jump, startled by the interruption of his thoughts. She gestures at her phone and clarifies, "He just texted me that he stopped to get more gas and is about half an hour away." Then with a hum, she goes back to cooking enough food to feed a small army—more food than even Tooru and Hajime could eat in one sitting, although they'll certainly try.

Tooru smiles at her fondly. Hajime is an only child, and his absence leaves the house feeling empty in a way that Tooru's absence from his own childhood home doesn't. It's clear that Iwaizumi's mom is feeling it too, given how delighted she'd been when Tooru had arrived to surprise Hajime. He resolves to visit her more often, because after Hajime, she is one of his favorite people and she has the best sense of humor of anyone Tooru knows.

Tooru wonders if he should share his fears with her, or perhaps just share the truth of who Suga is. She might understand, even if she doesn't approve. "Auntie," he begins slowly, trying to figure out what he wants to say. She glances at him over her shoulder, but he shakes his head when the guilt chokes him. "Let me help, won't you?" he wheedles instead. "Iwa-chan told me he's eaten nothing but combini food since he was up for Takeru's birthday party! Whatever he doesn't eat tonight I'm sure he'll be happy to have as a midnight snack—or even leftovers for tomorrow! We all know you're the best cook."

As he'd known she would, Iwaizumi's mom looks worried about her baby boy not eating well. He quickly soothes away the concern he stirred up by offering, "He's been really busy, though, and said he was looking forward to your cooking. He's going to be so spoiled to have all this the moment he gets home! So let me help, okay? I'm not nearly as good a cook as you, but I can at least chop things."

"Your mother did train you very well in that regard," Auntie teases, relieved. Whenever the Iwaizumi and Oikawa families gather, it's always Hajime, Auntie, and Tooru's mother in the kitchen—well, and Tooru, but that's only because they're the most entertaining and chopping some vegetables is a small price to pay for a front row seat. "Alright, alright, here." She rummages around in her fridge and pulls out more carrots and daikon than any human being could consume in one sitting. When Tooru just looks at her, she grins with an impishness that Hajime almost never shows, and says, "You'll be saving me a lot of time tomorrow, too."

Tooru's mouth curves in a quick smile, and he sets to work, listening to Auntie's latest stories from her shifts in the ER and in exchange, Tooru offers his adventures in guiding his teammates towards the understanding that Tooru is both the best setter on the team and will be the best choice for captain in a couple years.

"Of course, the first years already worship the ground I walk on," he assures as he finishes the daikon and begins to peel the carrots. "And I've got everyone but Shi-chan from my year convinced that I know them inside and out. At least three of them carry a charm to protect them from whatever magic I'm using to read their minds." He grins, and Iwaizumi's mom cackles. "Even the fourth years are coming around. It's the third years that keep resisting—I think that Akagi-senpai is starting to understand that depending on how this year pans out, I might be able to pull off a coup and become Ueda-senpai's vice-captain no matter what Akagi-senpai's feeling on the matter are. As it stands, we both know that I'm the better setter, and the gap between us just keeps widening because our hitters trust me more." He tosses his hair, pleased.

"Always stirring up trouble, aren't you?" Auntie says, but she sounds viciously satisfied, which makes Tooru smirk. Sometimes he wonders whether he and Hajime were secretly switched at birth, because although Iwaizumi's mom clearly passed on her dark features to her son, her personality and Tooru's are, in Hajime's words, disturbingly similar.

"Always," he assures her. "What's the point if you're not going to break a few minds?"

"And a few hearts?" Auntie murmurs, and there's spark of slyness that makes Tooru abandon his chopping and hug her from behind. He stoops a little to manage it—if Oikawa's family is one of giants, Auntie is a human made miniature.

"You're the best," he declares, "And Iwa-chan absolutely doesn't deserve you. Be my mom instead, I'll treat you right." She pats his cheek, eyes crinkling as she smiles up at him.

"Only if you—" she begins, but the front door rattles, then pops free as Hajime throws his weight against it.

"I'm home," he calls out, and oh, oh, this isn't fair. Hearing his voice like this can't possibly compare to hearing it over the phone and Tooru rushes from the kitchen. "Before I leave, I'll take another look at the door, I can't believe it's still sticking—Oikawa!"

Tooru barrels into him, throwing his arms around Hajime in a hug that's a breath away from a tackle. If Hajime was fractionally weaker, Tooru might have knocked him to the floor, but Hajime drops his bag and his arms come to wrap around Tooru in an instant. Whatever had been out of alignment clicks into place in Tooru's chest and he shivers. "Iwa-chan!" Tooru trills, right into his ear. "It's so good to see you!" He burrows his face into Hajime's warmth and strength, and only lets go when Iwaizumi's mom comes out of the kitchen.

"Welcome home, Hajime," Auntie greets, hugging Hajime tight and breaking into a brilliant smile. "Are you hungry? I've heard some vicious rumors about too many combini meals—"

"Already? Damn it, Shittykawa, I just got home!" Hajime growls, but Tooru's smile never falters, even when Hajime clearly considers the pros and cons of punching his oldest and dearest friend. After a moment he reigns the impulse under control and turns back to his mom. "I'm fine," he assures, tossing Tooru a last glare. "It's just been a busy few weeks, alright? Things will—I'm hoping after Golden Week it'll be better. I'll adjust."

"Alright, alright," Iwaizumi's mom agrees after a moment of searching her son's face. "I know you're busy, and I know that you know how important a good meal is. Put your things upstairs, will you? I'm just going to fry up some veggies." She makes shooing motions at him, and Tooru automatically follows Hajime upstairs.

The second they're in his room, however, Hajime glances back as though to check they haven't been followed and hisses, "Aren't you supposed to be with Sugawara?" It's an accusation, all of his friendly ease cast aside as he narrows his eyes.

Tooru's lungs tense like he's jumped into an ice-bath. "What do you mean, aren't I supposed to be with Kou-chan? I'm here to surprise you, Iwa-chan! Shouldn't you be happy to see your very best friend in the entire world?" He pouts for effect as Hajime dumps his bag on his bed, face doing a weird complicated thing that Tooru can't decipher and the fear hits all over again.

Maybe Tooru had been right after all, maybe Hajime is sick of him now that he's experienced what it's like to be free of Tooru's overbearing presence. Tooru doesn't know what to do with his hands as they start to shake, resorting to tucking them behind his back. Quieter than he intends, he asks, "Are—should I go? I guess you're tired?"

Hajime shakes his head, like Tooru's said something utterly confounding again, and Tooru resists stamping his foot and demanding an explanation. He's absolutely not the one sending mixed signals, it's Hajime, and this is all Hajime's fault. "Of course not, Oikawa," he says, like it's obvious. "I mean, I am tired, but I'm just—I thought you'd be spending time with Sugawara tonight, I wasn't expecting to see you here, that's all. Don't get all worked up about me asking a single question, stupid." He flicks Tooru on the forehead, which is as good as a caress.

Tooru claps his hand over it, whining, but he can breathe again. "Kou-chan attends Senshu," he reminds. "I can see him whenever I want! Not to mention I'm sure he's got lots of Karasuno friends that he wants to see while he can, just like I want to see Mattsun and Makki and everyone—just like I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you the second you came home! And anyways, he's not even getting in until tomorrow—he's taking the train up and back. He'd bought the tickets before we started dating, you know how expensive Golden Week travel can get." He wrinkles his nose. "Besides, it's not all about you, I wanted to see Auntie, too. I'm not going to see either of you again until summer, and even then I'm going to spend most of my time practicing in Tokyo anyways so I won't be more than a week, probably." He drapes himself over Hajime again, only to get shoved off and he topples onto the bed, moaning dramatically as Hajime ignores him.

Tooru falls silent as he watches as Hajime efficiently unpacks. He uses Hajime's concentration as an excuse to drink him in, and sees the dark circles, the wan face, the tight mouth. It's stupid, but it's reassuring to be able to read the evidence of Hajime's strain in his body with only a glance.

Tooru wonders what would happen if he offered to try and help Hajime get rid of it, what it would be like to have permission to pull him down to the bed beside Tooru and kiss him until pleasure melted him completely. Tooru wonders a lot of things, right up until Hajime lifts his foot and rests it atop Tooru's stomach, pressing lightly.

"Do I even want to know what you're daydreaming about?" he asks suspiciously. "You've got the same look in your eyes as whenever you talk about new ways to humiliate Ushiwaka or Kageyama or when you're plotting new ways to convince your teammates to bow down to you."

"Do I?" Tooru hums. "Well, you're not that far off." He's absolutely that far off. He's about as far off as is possible while still remaining on the same planet. Tooru would be angrier, but Hajime's face is giving his thoughts away again, and he's reluctantly amused beneath the grumpiness which leaves Tooru pleased as well. "It's going to be a busy year, you know. Get your foot off me, you grunt. I bet food is ready by now and I'm hungry." Hajime lifts his foot off, rolling his eyes, and Tooru stands, cracking his back and heading for the door.

"It is good to see you, you know." Tooru stops where he is, Hajime's unexpected words cutting right to his heart. "I know things have been weird, the past few weeks, but..." He seems to run out of words and when Tooru glances over his shoulder, Hajime's staring off to the side and rubbing a hand through his hair. "I'm done with that, and it's not going to affect me anymore." There's a note of queer determination, and Tooru tilts his head as Hajime straightens. "Anyways, about Sugawara. I know that you can see him anytime you'd like, but I can't. I want to meet him properly. You should take him to the picnic with everyone on Friday."

"Well," Tooru hedges, not quite meeting Hajime's eyes, "Kou-chan is going to be really busy. He's going to be seeing people from Karasuno, and he's got his own plans with his family, and I'm just not sure how much free time the three of us will have so I figured—" Tooru trails off awkwardly as he runs out of words beneath Hajime's dark, uncompromising stare.

"Oikawa," Hajime says, and Tooru's defeated.

"Yeah—yes. I'll figure something out, alright?"

Hajime doesn't look happy, but he doesn't look anything else, either, and Tooru closes his eyes as Hajime brushes past him, their fingers sliding together for just an instant. Tooru savors it, listening to Hajime clomp down the stairs.

"Oi, aren't you coming?" he calls, and Tooru inhales sharply.

His quick wit has left him. "Just a minute, I'm going to run to the bathroom. I'll meet you downstairs, alright?" There's an answering grunt of acknowledgement.

Tooru stands in Hajime's half-shadowed bedroom and exhales shakily as he listens to Hajime's footsteps and holds himself together.

~*~

Whatever anyone else says, Tooru is an absolute gentleman, and so he politely escorts Suga into his favorite ramen shop the next day. And given that he is an absolute gentleman, he doesn't show that he's distracted by thoughts of Hajime's weirdness last night on his face.

"So how is Iwaizumi-san?" Suga asks as soon as they're seated, and just beams when Tooru kicks him under the table. So much for his attempt at composure. "Give me a little credit. Also, your poker face isn't nearly as good as you think it is."

"Oh?" Tooru asks snidely. "Is that why you're going to visit your Asahi-san tonight?" It's a stab in the dark, but a fair one.

"I visited him this morning. He picked me up from the train station," Suga corrects cheerfully. "But yes."

"I hate you so much."

"No you don't. I just spent twenty minutes at your house unnerving your sister by stealing kisses while she pretended she wasn't looking before dragging you out of the house on a date." Suga peruses the menu. "So feed me. Please."

Tooru tries to kick him again, but Suga is faster this time and yanks his leg out of the way. "I'm getting dumplings, too, for that," he warns, and Tooru looks to the ceiling as though, somewhere beyond that, a god is laughing as his stupidity.

"Alright, alright," Tooru mutters, and Suga grins at him again. "Who knew you could put that much food away?"

"I've always got room for free food," Suga says. Tooru, shockingly, does not find that reassuring in the least.

He orders for them anyways, including Suga's dumplings, then asks, "So how's that ace of yours? And your captain?"

Suga raises his brows but answers gamely enough. "Good. Asahi found a job at a bakery near Sendai and seems to love it. He gets to hide in the back while hundreds of girls line up for a peek of the buff pastry chef with the heart of gold and disappoint them all when Noya shows up to walk him home." Suga shrugs a little. "As for Daichi, he's actually down our way—he's at Teikyo, so I see him more often than I do Asahi. He's studying physical therapy—well, and English—but he's focusing on sports injuries."

"Really?" Tooru asks, surprised and a little bit impressed. "I assumed he was still in Miyagi, but he's practically next door!"

Suga frowns. "No—I mean, we even took the train up here together. I could have sworn that you knew. When I said I was going to be late getting to dinner last week? That's because I was coming from Daichi's. He was having problems with the math in his physiology class, so I stopped by for a couple of hours to tutor him." When Tooru keeps staring at him, Suga shakes his head, chuckling. "I'm not sure why you're so shocked. I mean, you and Mattsun are at schools close to one another."

"I know," Tooru whines, "but if he was so close, why didn't you properly introduce us?" He points a finger. "Don't tell me that Mattsun's gotten to hang out with the Karasuno captain but not me!" When Suga remains suspiciously silent, Tooru half-wails, "Why does no one tell me these things?"

"Because Daichi is a good person and doesn't need to be terrorized by you," Suga replies primly.

"Because he's already got one demon whispering on his shoulder?" Tooru counters, but Suga is undeterred.

"Precisely. I'm immunizing him so he's prepared to interact with you for long periods of time. By the time I'm done with him, he'll be ready for his first dose of you."

"Kinky," Tooru replies automatically. Truthfully, though, he's not forgotten Suga's exasperated comment after Takeru's party about how he doesn't understand why everyone assumes that it's Sawamura he's in love with. Tooru's insatiably curious, and he's already thinking of ways that he can convince Suga to bring Sawamura around and confirm for himself whether Suga's belief that Sawamura didn't have any feelings for Suga was true.

"Extremely," Suga agrees, straight-faced. Their eyes meet and they immediately burst into laughter. Suga sobers more quickly than Tooru, frowning at something over Tooru's shoulder until Tooru turns, too.

Yahaba and Kyoutani are peering through the crowded little restaurant, hissing to one another and peering in Tooru's direction until they realize that Tooru's staring back. In response, Kyoutani scowls prodigiously while Yahaba's face lights up with a blade-edged smile.

Yahaba had been the first and only choice for the next captain, and he had acquitted himself well, even if they had once again lost to Karasuno in the spring tournament. He heard through the Seijoh grapevine that Kyoutani had been Yahaba's vice-captain, something he hadn't thought much of until he beckons for them to cross the room and sees their fingers brushing together as they walk. Yahaba-kun murmurs something, a glint of threat in his eyes, Kyoutani angles his head down just far enough to hear it.

"It's a disease," Suga murmurs in Tooru's ear. "Setters and their aces, I swear."

Tooru shushes him. "Yahaba-kun, Kyou-Ken-chan," he greets with his sunniest smile. "I wasn't expecting to see either of you here today. Home for Golden Week, I assume?"

"Oikawa-senpai," Yahaba greets with a quick bow. Kyoutani grunts, and Tooru rolls his eyes. He's spent enough time dealing with one caveman; he's glad to have permanently foisted the second off on Yahaba, who appears to have matters well in hand. This is made clear by the way Yahaba slyly digs his nails into tender skin just above Kyoutani's elbow, earning himself a yelp and a glare. Kyoutani refuses to do more than nod in greeting, but Yahaba gracefully takes it for the victory it is. "We are. We just got in this morning."

"Last night for me," Tooru offers. "It's good to see you. How's the first few weeks of college been?"

"Excellent, of course," Yahaba says smoothly. "Even if I am babysitting." Kyoutani bares his teeth in a smile that promises retribution. Tooru's absolutely not jealous that it looks like the kind of retribution that involves both parties ending up very, very satisfied.

"Once a captain, always a captain," Tooru points out with a quicksilver smile. "May I introduce to you my boyfriend, Sugawara Koushi?" Tooru gestures to Suga, who nods in greeting. "Kou-chan, these are my kohai, Yahaba Shigeru and Kyoutani Kentarou."

"Your boyfriend?" Yahaba-kun repeats the title like it might attack, and glances between Tooru and Suga as though he needs independent verification. Kyoutani crosses his arms over his chest, scowl deepening.

"Yes," Suga says with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Yahaba-kun, Kyoutani-kun." Tooru can't help but admire his poker face.

"It's nice to meet you too," Yahaba says, while Kyoutani grunts. Tooru doesn't bother to try and command good behavior out of him; that's Yahaba's problem now, not his, but Yahaba seems otherwise distracted. "Ah, is Iwaizumi-senpai going to be there on Friday, then?" His voice sounds apologetic.

"Yes," Tooru says, drawing out the word slightly. "Why?"

"I'm glad you're both going to attend," Yahaba offers, which clarifies precisely nothing for Tooru. "It's so hard for everyone to get together as it is without..." He trails off into a meaningful silence. Usually Tooru likes Yahaba's meaningful silences; it's a pleasure to be able to converse with someone capable of communicating without a single word. For once, however, Tooru has no idea what Yahaba is talking about, which means Tooru needs to either swallow his pride and ask or lie and pretend he knows exactly what Yahaba is referencing.

"Without?" Tooru finally presses after a moment of internal debate.

"Without you and Iwaizumi-senpai avoiding each other, of course," Yahaba says delicately, looking faintly annoyed that Tooru didn't seem willing to accept the unspoken peace offering. "That would make Seijoh reunions much more strained in the future, wouldn't it?"

It clicks, suddenly and painfully, and Tooru is frankly embarrassed it took so long for him to catch on. "Iwa-chan and I were never in a relationship," Tooru explains with the faintest edge to his words, offering a razor-sharp smile. Yahaba and Kyoutani blink at him.

Yahaba's brow furrows. "You...weren't?" he says slowly, then repeats, "You weren't." His eyes widen for an instant before his usual reserved calm wraps around him again. Despite his annoyance, Tooru is once more impressed.

"Ah! Please pardon my assumptions." He bows deeply, faint color in his cheeks while Kyoutani stares at Tooru, narrowing his eyes in disgust, like Tooru is the one in the wrong here somehow. "We're very sorry for having interrupted your lunch. It was good to see you, Oikawa-senpai. Perhaps if we have the chance, we'll gather some Seijoh alum and play a few matches."

"Of course." Tooru watches as Yahaba bows one last time then drags Kyoutani away.

Tooru can't help the stiffness in his back, hyper aware of Yahaba and Kyoutani settling on the far side of the ramen bar from them, the pair of them talking quietly.

"So he became the next Seijoh captain," Suga observes.

"Ah, yes, but he was the only choice," Tooru explains, distracted. Suga rests his hand on Tooru's, and he blinks, finally turning his back on Yahaba and Kyoutani. Suga offers a quick smile that Tooru barely manages to return, stomach churning.

It's an uncomfortable feeling, knowing his heart has been on brutal display for even longer than he realized.

Still, his voice is perfectly even as he explains, "I'm a better setter than Yahaba-kun is, but there's no one else on that team who has the force of will he does, not even Kyoutani. If he can't tailor his sets as perfectly as I can or win them over with charisma, he needed to be able to command them and earn their trust some other way. He does it by having the determination of a dog; he digs his teeth in and never, ever lets go. He has the drive to rule the court, to control the pace, to fight tooth and nail against anyone who would drag him off the court, whether they're on his side of the net or across from it."

Suga nods slowly. Tooru doesn't ask the question, but Suga answers anyways. "It wasn't an easy choice." He tilts his head slightly and pulls his hand away. "I don't have your skill or Kageyama's. That doesn't mean I love volleyball any less. It just meant...I wanted Asahi and Daichi to win without me more than I wanted to lose with them." He smiles a bit, mirthless. "The teachers singled me out when the third years decided to stay on for the spring tournament. They wanted to know why—" He stopped, shrugged. "I couldn't stop. No matter what happens, I don't want to regret what I've done—and I would have regretted not giving my all while I could."

Tooru swallows. "I want to be the best. No matter what. No matter who's in my way. And I'm still going to crush Tobio-chan and Ushiwaka at every opportunity and prove that they can never, ever afford to underestimate or overlook me. I'm going play volleyball until it's taken from me."

"You always scared Kageyama more than Ushijima did, you know," Suga says finally. "Ushijima is powerful, but he is one person. It took all of us, but isolating his skills and gradually pressuring him into making mistakes—it was possible then, and it's possible now. You, though...how do you disrupt perfect trust? Even at the end, they never once faltered. Kageyama is very aware, I think, that he doesn't know how to earn that level of trust yet outside of Karasuno." Suga lifts his eyes, bright and steady. "He will though, that terrifying kohai of ours. I'm very much looking forward to seeing you two keep fighting."

Tooru finds himself smiling, savage and pleased. "So long as you don't mind Tobio-chan's humiliation."

"No more than I'd mind yours," Suga promises, and Tooru laughs out loud.

As their food is placed in front of them, Tooru salutes Suga with his water. "To the wars yet to come," he toasts, and Suga taps their glasses together, his own smile ferocious.

"And the wars to be won."


	5. In Which Tooru Hears a Confession

Tooru kisses Suga thoroughly before heading inside, pleased. Suga's an excellent kisser, and Tooru's in love, not dead. "I'm home!" he calls out as he kicks off his shoes. "Mom? Dad?" Their car is still in the driveway, so they haven't left for the grocery store but he hopes that they're not about to rope him into chores.

"In the kitchen!" his mom calls, and Tooru rolls his eyes. He should have known. Hopefully she doesn't mind Tooru spending a couple of hours making onigiri for the following day—the only dish they were allowing him to bring, citing his abysmal lack of skill in the kitchen. "Welcome home!"

He stops in surprise when he sees Hajime across from his dad, each with a cup of coffee in front of them. Hajime has his hands busy cutting up a box of early strawberries. "Iwa-chan," he says. "What are you doing here?"

"What, you're allowed to catch up with my mom, but me seeing your parents is forbidden?" Hajime asks, and if he wouldn't hit Tooru for it, Tooru would describe his expression as adorably grumpy. Tooru does not flop on top of him in a moment of admirable restraint. "I knew you'd be back sometime this afternoon, but since you weren't answering your phone..."

Tooru sniffs. "I was out having lunch with Kou-chan. Don't you know that it's bad manners to be distracted by your phone when you're with your boyfriend?" Not to mention it always feels a little weird to be texting Hajime while Suga is right there. Tooru doesn't know if it's made better or worse by the fact that Suga enjoys offering potential responses a little too much.

Tooru needs that separation for his own sanity, because guilt is starting to churn in his stomach whenever he's out with Suga and Hajime texts him. It's as though he and Hajime really are dating and he's somehow cheating. Worse, Yahaba and Kyoutani's surprise that he wasn't with Hajime struck deep and had reminded Tooru that Suga had mentioned even Tobio seemed to have figured it out subconsciously —and none of them know Tooru that well, not the way Katsumi or Mattsun do, so it's both absurd and deeply unfair that so many people know Tooru's secrets.

It seems that Tooru really is that obvious and Hajime really is that oblivious.

It's not a comforting prospect.

Annoyed, Tooru drops into the seat next to Hajime, stealing strawberries. Hajime just sighs and pushes the bowl closer, a faint smile on his face like he expected no less. Tooru shoves the biggest strawberry he can find into his face while Hajime's deft fingers make quick work of the rest of the package, and Tooru tries very hard not to seem like he's staring at them.

"How was your lunch?" Tooru can't pinpoint why he dislikes tone of his dad's question. "You went to the ramen place you like, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Tooru says through another mouthful of strawberry. His dad hums like it really is just an innocent question about his son's life. "He's going to the movies with some of the Karasuno players this afternoon, but he's going to be coming to the picnic with us tomorrow."

"Shit." Hajime drops the paring knife, droplets of blood splattering on the cutting board. He stands, sliding around Tooru and heading for the sink, gripping his index finger. Tooru jumps up, trying to figure out what it is he's supposed to do as Hajime turns on the faucet and rinses his finger before wrapping it in paper towels.

Hajime seems calm when he requests, "Sorry, do you mind getting me a band aid?" but Tooru can see the way he's trembling. Tooru's mom goes to rummage in the closet while Tooru comes over to Hajime, settling a hand near his elbow. Hajime jumps, unsure when Tooru got close.

Hajime's recent most growth spurt ate away at most of the height difference between them, but he's still a couple centimeters shorter, and Tooru's struck by the thought of how easy it would be, to bridge that minute difference between them. Hajime's lips are just barely parted, and Tooru would risk never playing volleyball again—well, perhaps not, but Tooru would certainly risk making vice-captain this coming year if he has the chance to learn the shape of Hajime's mouth.

"If you're going to be a big, bad doctor, you're going to have to get much better with a blade," Tooru scolds instead. "I don't think anyone is going to trust a doctor missing fingers, although that will open up a new career for you. You could try being the experimental subject for linguistics professors trying to understand the grunts and noises that Neanderthals once used—ow!" Tooru dodges out of the way of a second punch, but only barely. "Mean, Iwa-chan!" he gasps, as though he's the one that's suffered grievous harm, but Hajime's stopped shaking now.

"Trashykawa," Hajime snaps, but it lacks heat and Tooru leans against him a little. With a little hiss of pain, he inspects his wound. Tooru's dad appears over Hajime's other shoulder, making both of them startle.

"It doesn't look too bad," he assures, and Tooru nods, as though the sight of the open wound and the blood doesn't make his stomach churn. He could barely stand to look at his knee after he injured it, and that was his own knee he'd twisted.

"Go sit down, Oikawa," Hajime commands, elbowing him in the side. "You're such a baby about this sort of stuff! I don't want you suddenly fainting or whatever while I'm trying to deal with this."

"I wouldn't faint!" Tooru objects even though when Hajime had fallen off his bike at thirteen and scraped open his arm from wrist to elbow, Tooru absolutely had fainted at the sight of blood dripping off Hajime's arm. "You're the freak," Tooru protests, even as he takes some paper towels and goes to clean up the table. At least that will make him feel useful. "It's perfectly normal not to want to look at gory injuries, you know!"

"This isn't a gory injury. It's barely worse than a papercut," Hajime says flatly. Tooru glances, and sure enough, it's almost stopped bleeding; Hajime only nicked the side of his finger. Tooru's mother comes bustling in after another moment armed with antibacterial cream and a box of band aids so that Hajime can right himself. Tooru's parents happily fuss over him while Tooru blows out a breath, shaking his head. There's a reason that he and Katsumi always tease Hajime for being the favorite child. He'll just steal Auntie all for himself. When he's home during the summer he'll spend an afternoon when she's off-shift drinking with her and making fun of whoever's had the displeasure of pissing them off most recently.

Hajime settles at the table again, a faint flush of embarrassment at his cheeks. Tooru props his feet up in Hajime's lap, pouts when they're pushed off, and then puts his feet up against the edge of the seat, tucking his toes beneath Hajime's thigh to keep them warm instead of keeping his house shoes on. Hajime glares at him, and Tooru sticks his tongue out. Just as Hajime's about to say something, Tooru's mom sighs at them both. "Boys. Aren't you supposed to be adults now?"

"No," Tooru says at the same time Hajime says, "Yes," and Tooru's mom claps her hands before they can get started again.

"If you're going to do nothing but argue, I'm going to either kick you out of the house or set you to work," she threatens. When both of them shut up, she smiles in grim pleasure. "Now, Hajime, you were telling us about school, before we were interrupted?" She gives Tooru a Look, but Tooru ignores it as he picks up the bowl of strawberries and puts it in his lap.

Hajime starts talking, and while normally Tooru would at least pretend to pay attention, he's caught by the way Hajime strokes Tooru's ankle, steady and slow. Without thinking about it, Tooru divides the bowl of strawberries between them, one for Hajime, one for himself, until it's empty. Only then does he focus on Hajime's aim to work in pediatric medicine.

"Pediatrics? Really, Iwa-chan?" Tooru scoffs. "Why would you want to work with snot-nosed brats all day?"

"I'm still friends with you, aren't I?" Hajime counters, and Tooru squawks. "Hey, you left that open," Hajime says, undeterred. "Besides, what's so bad about pediatrics? You like kids, or you wouldn't have spent our second and third years in high school coaching Takeru's group."

"That's different," Tooru says primly. "One, it was only like, twelve of them, once a week, for a couple hours. You'd be dealing with them pretty much constantly. Second, you're going to be dealing with them while they're sick, which means that they—and their parents—are going to be at their absolute worst. Every minute I had to spend being poked and prodded at by a doctor made me want to scream."

"I know," Hajime murmurs, and he faces Tooru directly. His eyes are big, and dark, and warm. "Why do you think I want to do it? Someone's got to tell even the shitheads that it's going to be alright—and, if it's not gonna be alright, they deserve the truth about that, too." He flicks his fingers against Tooru's forehead and Tooru claps a hand over it.

It's strange, knowing Hajime wants to work with kids because Tooru, scared and sad and stupid, had once burst into tears and screamed at the doctor to fix his knee now because he loved volleyball more than anything in the world and if he couldn't beat Tobio or Ushiwaka, then what was the point of life? Tooru's knee still twinges when he overworks it or when the weather is abysmal but when he thinks of the day he got hurt, he doesn't think of the horrible agony of his knee. The medical details of his injury hadn't mattered at the time. What had mattered was Hajime, clutching his hand, promising that one way or another, everything was going to be fine.

Tooru thinks about all the children that might not have a Hajime to bring with them and swallows. If they don't have their own Hajime, he supposes he can allow them to borrow his. 

"Iwa-chan, you are a heathen," Tooru announces and stands, dodging as Hajime threatens to flick him again. "I'm going to check if your big grubby paws have left a mark; if I walk around with a bruise for a month because you never learned manners, you are going to die. Don't you know how sensitive my skin is?" He flounces out, while his parents laugh, and Hajime narrows his eyes.

When the bathroom door is safely shut behind him, Tooru covers his face and breathes hard. Pretending to date someone is not supposed to be heartbreaking as he struggles to reconcile Hajime's evidently utterly earnest desire to work with sick children for the rest of his life because of Tooru with his apparent genuine desire to get to know Suga better on the grounds that if he matters that much to Tooru, he should matter to Hajime too.

_What am I supposed to do?_ Tooru thinks miserably. _He's never going to feel the same, so why do I keep expecting things to change? If I'd pretended that Suga didn't mean any more to me than all those girls—except Hajime'd wonder why the fuck I brought him home... If only Hajime hadn't been so supportive._ If Hajime ever dates anyone in earnest, Tooru's going to lose his mind and turn into the kind of jealous monster that horror films are written about. Tooru's chewed up and spit out more girls who have expressed interest in Hajime than he can count, ruthless and subtle and utterly uncompromising of what is his.

It's possible Hajime's telling the truth when he tells Tooru about his horrendous personality. Remotely possible, but possible.

Tooru checks his reflection in the mirror. He looks a little tired despite his usual skincare routines, with faint bruising beneath his eyes and an aggravating pimple on the high point of his cheekbone where it can be seen from outer space despite his best efforts to disguise it. His fusses with his hair so that his bangs fall a little differently and wonders if it'll make him more attractive. He wrinkles his nose at his expression in the mirror, which is looking stupidly despondent, and then plasters on a smile. Tooru's been smiling since he understood the wisdom of dealing with honey over vinegar; only Hajime has stuck through the acidity beneath.

Except—that's not entirely true. Mattsun has, and Makki. Suga, too, arguably. Even so, Tooru keeps looking for a reason, keeps wondering when they'll all—he sighs, then brightens the grin in the mirror. He shuffles out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen instead, slowing, and ultimately pausing as he hears his name mentioned.

"—patient with him, of course," Tooru's mom says in the same apologetic tone Hajime also uses when soothing things over on Tooru's behalf. Tooru hates it, because if he's going to leave ruffled feathers in his wake he wants his to feel the sting for a long time. No matter how many times Hajime calls him an asshole, Tooru's not going to stop teaching someone their place. "I think he's..." She stops there, and Tooru wants to ask why she's hesitating; she's already talking about him behind his back. A distant part of Tooru recognizes that's maybe not entirely fair, but his temper has suffered as much as his skin in the past couple of weeks.

"He's being Oikawa," Hajime offers. His voice is wry, coupled with something that almost sounds pained. There's a beat of silence but Tooru can't see into the kitchen without giving himself away. "It's alright, Auntie. You don't have to defend him to me."

Tooru's dad snorts. "Tooru's your child," he says to Tooru's mom. "He certainly didn't inherit his dramatics from my side of the family."

"No, he inherited your side's wisdom and common sense, which is worse," she complains, and Dad snorts in amusement this time. "That's why we're always glad you're looking after him, Hajime. I worry about what would happen without you."

"He's not with me now. And I don't think...patience is really going to make a difference. Not with the way I..." Hajime trails off, a little huff of mirthless laughter escaping.

Tooru doesn't want to listen to Hajime grow sadder, so he nobly decides to provide escape. "Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan," he whines as he comes down the hallway. "Come play volleyball with me! It's been so long!" He offers his most beseeching look to his parents, which makes his dad hide behind his coffee mug while his mom tiredly waves her hand.

"I still want you to come help with dinner," she warns. "Hajime, you're welcome to stay if you want. I know your mother is probably still busy even though it's Golden Week."

"The life of being a nurse," Hajime agrees with a little smile. "She took an overnight shift in trade for the rest of Golden Week off, so I'm going to go back to eat with her before she leaves and probably get some studying done."

"So industrious, Iwa-chan!" Tooru croons. "If you get bored, though, you know where I am." He clings to Hajime, just a little. "It's not dinner time yet, though! Come on, let's play volleyball!"

"Damn it, Shittykawa, can't you wait two minutes—" The lingering pain in his voice has dissolved, though, so Tooru ignores Hajime's frustration in the hope that at least one of them can forget their worries for a while.


	6. In Which Tooru Enjoys a Picnic

Suga is a speed demon behind the wheel, which surprises Tooru more than it should. Suga blames his driving on the fact that they're already running late but Tooru doesn't believe him for a second. They somehow manage to snag the last available parking spot though, so Tooru can't complain even if the drive took a solid five years off his life.

Tooru recovers quickly, however, and drags Suga through the trees, waving and racing over when he sees everyone. Tooru drops the onigiri he brought on the blanket and yanks Makki into a hug, since he's the one Tooru hasn't seen in the longest, before doing the same to Hajime and Mattsun. Only then does Tooru realize that Suga's hanging back a couple of steps. Tooru waves him closer, saying, "Everyone, this is Sugawara Koushi. Kou-chan, this is everyone."

"You're so incompetent," Hajime mutters. Tooru sticks his tongue out, but Hajime ignores him in favor of smiling at Suga. "I know you're friends already with Mattsun, and we know each other, but that one," he points to Makki, "is Hanamaki Takahiro." He moves back a little to widen the circle, and Suga wedges himself between Hajime and Tooru, which unnerves Tooru more than it ought.

"Yo," Makki greets, waving a hand. "Nice to meet you. By the way, who else is coming? Anyone?"

"We saw Yahaba-kun and Kyou-Ken-chan yesterday," Tooru says. "They said they'd be coming. Well, Yahaba-kun said he would, which means Kyou-Ken-chan will be dragged along."

"Better get ready for an arm-wrestling match," Makki mutters and Hajime sighs. "Wattachi said he'd probably stop by for a bit, plus Hiro-kun and Takkun said they'd be here for a bit a little before two," he adds, naming two of the other third years who hadn't been starters. "Probably some others. And of course, Kindaichi will be here soon. He wouldn't give up the chance to fawn over his favorite senpai."

"And why _wouldn't_ he want to see his favorite senpai?" Tooru demands. "I'm wonderful and he _should_ miss me!"

Makki looks him dead in the eye. "I was talking about Iwaizumi."

"Traitor!" Tooru shouts and drags a laughing Makki to the ground in an effort to sit on him as Hajime puts a hand to his forehead in embarrassment.

"You signed up for this, Sugawara-san," he warns.

Suga grins. "I did," he agrees. "Please call me Suga, though. Tooru's told me so much about all of you, I don't feel like there's a need for formality."

"Horrible things, I'm sure," Makki complains. His face is squished into the blanket and he keeps trying to fight free of Tooru's hold. Finally his elbow snaps back and Tooru wheezes, toppling over. Makki sits up, hair on end, and says drolly, "He does have the worst personality of anyone that I know."

"Enough," Hajime growls. "Can't you at least pretend to be adults in public?" Tooru and Makki solemnly shake their heads, and Hajime looks up to heaven like he's expecting divine intervention. Tooru would pat him consolingly on the shoulder but Suga's in the way. "Fine. Fine, alright, let's at least eat, you animals." It serves as an excellent distraction, and Tooru's mouth immediately waters.

Hajime unpacks the bento boxes he brought, each one filled with festival delights. Tooru's onigiri look paltry in comparison, but he knew they would. Makki brought miso soup and some sides, since it's still early enough in May to have a cool wind, and Mattsun brought plenty for everyone to drink. It's Suga who rounds out the meal with enough desserts to feed a small army—or at least a few volleyball players.

"Let's eat!" they all chime, before digging in.

Tooru can't help but be warmed by the fact that his bento has some of his favorites, including sonomono with octopus. He tries to catch Hajime's eye, but catches Suga's instead. When Suga notices Tooru's stare, he winks, which is not nearly as reassuring as he seems to think it ought to be, and says, "Iwaizumi-kun, this is amazing! Who taught you to cook?"

"My mom," Hajime explains. "She's a nurse, so it was better if I had some idea of how to feed myself since she usually worked strange hours."

"I think that's impressive! I'm exclusively capable of cooking breakfast foods," Suga admits cheerfully. "I'm not much of a cook beyond that."

"Breakfast is important," Hajime says with unbecoming gravity, and Tooru snorts into his rice. Hajime leans around Suga to whack him upside the back of his head. " _It is_ , moron! If you're not getting your nutrition properly, especially as an athlete, you're going to die of scurvy!"

"Not if I keep eating oranges, I won't," Tooru sing-songs, and gets hit again for his trouble. "Ow!" He edges out of Hajime's range. "Iwa-chan, you're such a brute!"

"A brute trying to make sure you don't die of malnutrition," Hajime counters. Then, as though Tooru isn't _right there_ , Hajime shifts his attention back to Suga and says, "Make sure he's eating, and make sure he doesn't spend too much time in the gym. He knows what will happen if he overworks his knee, but—"

"Are you my mother, Iwa-chan?" Tooru teases, and then crosses his hands in front of his face at the scowl on Hajime's like he's warding off evil. "You're not! I know you're not!" he yelps, as Hajime glowers and everyone else laughs.

Hajime returns to his food, shaking his head. "Someone has to convince you to spend thoughts on something other than volleyball. If I can't be there, I guess it's gonna have to be you," he informs Suga gruffly. "Thanks for taking care of him," he adds, as though Tooru is a child. "I've spent too much time keeping him together to see him die now."

"Well, I have a vested interest in keeping him alive too, I suppose," Suga agrees, laughing a little. "At least until he becomes a sports star and rakes in money with all of his endorsement deals," he teases.

Makki and Mattsun groan in unison. "He would, too," Mattsun sighs. "Everyone would take one look at his face and ignore the hideous personality beneath it so long as he smiled on cue."

Tooru tosses his hair, smug. "You're not wrong. I'm gorgeous, and anyone would be lucky to have me supporting their brand." He holds up his fingers in a victory sign. "There's nothing to quench _thirst_ like Aquarius," he croons, letting his voice go a little husky like he's been—well. Like he's been screaming during another type of workout entirely.

Hajime wheezes suddenly, and then starts to cough. He tries to catch his breath but chokes instead, face going redder as he struggles to breathe. Tooru almost drops his bento in the rush to get Hajime a water, pressing it into his hand. Taking careful sips between deep breaths, Hajime looks down at the picnic blanket, cheeks still burning.

"Are you alright?" Tooru asks, half kneeling in front of him.

Coughing brought reflexive tears to Hajime's eyes, but that only makes his lashes look darker and more dramatic. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are damp and expression has softened from its habitual scowl and he's staring back at Tooru.

They're quiet for a heartbeat too long and Hajime blinks, sucking in a breath. "Yeah," he rasps. "Sorry, it just..." He waves his hand vaguely, and shoves gently at Tooru's shoulder. "Don't hover over me, I'm fine." He glances down as he says it, voice tight.

Tooru falls back slightly, swallowing.

"Here, have some miso soup," Suga says, startling Tooru. Sheepishly, Tooru realizes he'd practically climbed over Suga in his effort to get to Hajime, and he offers a strained smile to Suga before resuming his former seat. Suga's knees knock companionably against his own. Tooru hates them. "It'll be good to soothe your throat, don't you think?" He offers the thermos he took from Makki. "I hate when that happens."

Hajime takes the thermos and pours himself a little cup of it, sipping slowly. "Thanks." His voice is stronger and he clears it a couple of times. "Just went down wrong, I guess." Out of the corner of Tooru's eyes, he sees Makki and Mattsun exchange glances and when Tooru opens his mouth to say something, they arch their brows in unison. For once, Tooru decides discretion is the better part of valor and shuts his mouth. "Anyways, I kept meaning to ask when we met at Takeru's party, but didn't get the chance. Are you still playing volleyball?"

It's a safe topic, or safe enough, which is probably why Hajime picked it, and Tooru relaxes a little more as he waits for Suga's answer.

"Mattsun and I play together, actually, on one of the casual teams. We hold practice most days of the week and people show up when they're free, so it's always an interesting mix. It's nice—there's enough people most days that we can play matches against each other, which is nice because we don't schedule matches with other schools that often," Suga explains. "How about you? I know you're in medical school, but..."

Hajime makes a face. "Sometimes. There are a few other guys I can play some three-on-three with, but getting everyone's schedule to align is difficult so it doesn't happen as often as I'd like." He smiles lopsidedly and it looks stupidly sweet on his face. Tooru wants to kiss it off, and shoves rice into his mouth. "So I don't play much anymore. Well, except when I'm with this guy." He jerks his thumb at Tooru. "Every time we see each other, all he wants to do is drag me out on the court until I'm exhausted."

"You would be heartbroken if I didn't," Tooru pouts. "Besides, you're going to be a doctor! No matter how much running or strength training you do, it's not going to work your body the same way as volleyball does! Variety is important, Iwa-chan! Plus, I can't let your approaches get sloppy!"

Hajime narrows his eyes. "Since when are my approaches _sloppy_?" he demands. "I bet mine are still better than yours! I probably still jump higher, too. There's only three centimeters of difference between us!" He points his chopsticks at Tooru because he is rude and terrible, so Tooru sticks his tongue out. The chopsticks flash and threaten to grab Tooru's tongue until he jerks away out of reach.

"Brute!" Tooru cries. "I was only trying to be help—erk!" He almost topples backwards as Hajime drops his bento to the blanket and starts trying to grab hold of Tooru while Tooru keeps squirming away, hiding behind Suga as best as he can. Hajime almost definitely won't hurt Suga in his attempt to wrestle Tooru into submission. Well, at least not purposefully. He does almost clobber Suga in the head trying to get a grip on Tooru. "Mercy, mercy! Your volleyball skills are unmatched, Iwaizumi-sama!"

Tooru peeks out from over Suga's shoulder to see if Hajime has accepted his apology, and squawks as Hajime ruffles his hair. Tooru doesn't have a mirror on him, so he's stuck trying to rearrange his hair as best as he can and hope his hair isn't standing on end.

"Are they always like this?" Suga asks Makki and Mattsun, who sigh in unison.

"Worse, usually. They're being pretty well behaved, all things considered. I guess they want to impress you," Mattsun observes, resting his chin on his hand.

"Consider me impressed, I suppose. No, wait, you missed—oh, just come here." Suga tugs gently on Tooru's wrist before Tooru realizes he's the one being spoken to. Suga's fingers comb through his hair for a moment, restoring his part and arranging his bangs, fluffing up his hair a little bit. "There you go." He smiles up at Tooru, bright and warm. "All better."

"My hero," Tooru croons, and knows what he has to do. He presses a brief kiss to the corner of Suga's mouth and Suga's smile upgrades to dazzling.

He turns it on Hajime, who also looks a little bit blinded by the full force of Suga's charm. A little worry flares to life in the back of Tooru's mind, the kind of worry that points out that maybe Hajime likes the kind of people who are fundamentally good-hearted despite their mischief, the kind of people who have brilliant smiles, the kind of people who have cute moles at the corner of their eyes that are perfectly positioned for soft kisses.

Tooru's not worried about Hajime doing anything, even after he and Suga 'break up', but it's a discomforting worry that Hajime might have a type, and that Suga might be it. After all, Hajime never really describes the kind of person he's interested in besides 'cute' and 'interested in volleyball' and 'good at hugs'—the last of which Tooru still mercilessly teases him while simultaneously attempting to judge his own hugging skills. He hasn't had the courage to ask Hajime whether he gives good ones. Suga gives pretty good ones, which is worrisome, although Hajime isn't the type to really give or receive hugs from anyone but Tooru, but maybe that will change if he finds someone—

"Tooru-kun?"

Suga and Hajime's faces peer at him, the former blatantly curious, the latter concerned. Tooru waves it away with a hand. "It's nothing," he lies. "I was just thinking about how cute Kou-chan is, that's all."

"Do you regularly look like you might throw up a little bit when you think about your boyfriend?" Makki asks, suddenly interested and not at all surprised.

Tooru scowls at him and Mattsun as he realizes that Mattsun must have spilled the beans. He supposes it would have been too much to ask for Mattsun to hide the truth from Makki, but that just means that the only person who doesn't know what's going on here is Hajime. Tooru doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad one.

"I don't look like I might throw up," Tooru mutters. He picks up his half-finished bento box again, somewhat surprised it's still intact.

Suga laughs a little, and leans into Tooru, a solid warmth. "Careful," he teases, glancing up at Tooru through lowered lashes. His smile turns sly and wicked. "That's also the face you make when you come."

"Brain bleach!" Makki shouts immediately while Mattsun covers his eyes and moans about how he can never unhear that. Hajime looks up to the heavens with utter desperation for the second time in less than twenty minutes as though that will bring him peace despite the fact that he should have learned his lesson by now. Tooru just stares at Suga in something between abject horror and delight.

"Sorry," Suga says, giggling helplessly. "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't."

"A match made in hell," Mattsun mutters. "I can't believe I ever let them stand in the same room together, let alone introduced them."

Tooru grins and Suga slings an arm around his waist. "Well, you're stuck with us now," he informs them cheerfully while Tooru snickers.

"Save us all," Makki deadpans.

"Actually, speaking of meeting," Suga says. "I meant to ask earlier, actually. I know that Tooru met Hanamaki-kun and Mattsun at Aoba Johsai—"

"Call me Makki," Makki interrupts. "It's less of a mouthful, even if he came up with it." He jerks his thumb at Tooru, as though the acknowledgement is a hardship and Tooru sticks his tongue out. "You can blame Mattsun's nickname on the fact that every time Iwaizumi called Oikawa 'Shittykawa' or 'Crappykawa' people wanted to know what Matsukawa had done to deserve the abuse."

Suga snorts. "I hadn't considered that," he admits. "Mattsun is less of a mouthful. Alright, Makki and Mattsun, then."

"Sorry for the interruption," Makki says, bowing slightly.

Suga waves it off. "It's not a problem. I was just going to ask Iwaizumi-kun about how long he and Tooru-kun have known each other, and how you met. Tooru-kun's mentioned that the pair of you are childhood friends, and during high school Kageyama told us that you'd been playing together from the start, but I've been curious for a while."

Tooru glances at Suga, wondering what he's getting at. The topic seems safe enough, so perhaps Suga's simply as curious as he claims.

Hajime doesn't seem to notice as he says, "Iwaizumi is fine. And Oikawa and I have known each other for—fuck, thirteen, no, fourteen years now. Oikawa moved into the neighborhood a month or so before our first year of elementary school. There was a playground a couple streets over that I'd go to a lot with my mom during the day, since she worked a lot of night shifts. Oikawa's mom teaches, so she had a lot of free time before the new school year started so she started bringing him to the playground. Oikawa was a troublemaker even then, though."

"I am not a troublemaker," Tooru immediately objects. "I didn't want to play with Mi-chan, and the only other kids at the park were way younger than I was!"

"Who's telling this story?" Hajime demands, but Tooru wrinkles his nose.

"Stick to the facts, Iwa-chan," he instructs. Hajime rolls his eyes.

" _Anyways_ ," Hajime stresses, and only relaxes when Tooru stays silent. "The first time she took him to the park, he decided he'd climb one of the trees around the park while his mom was busy with Katsumi-nee-san because he was bored—and she couldn't get him to come down. He'd gone up so high that he'd gotten scared and was clinging to the branch and sobbing. His mom was basically ready to call the fire department to get him down when I heard him wailing." Hajime grins, and although it doesn't have Suga's dazzling effect, it's so warm Tooru can barely breathe around the warmth that blooms in his chest. "I took one look at him and said, 'Well I guess if you're going to be a _baby_ who's afraid of heights...'"

"And I said," Tooru continues, "that the only baby there was him because he was just jealous that I'd gotten up here and he couldn't. While pretending I wasn't crying, of course, because I thought Iwa-chan was terrible even then and wasn't about to let him be right."

Hajime laughs. "And I couldn't let a crybaby tell me anything like that, so before his mom could grab me I started climbing the tree. I got up to where he was and told him something like, 'See? You're the baby who's afraid of heights' which made him wipe his eyes and scowl at me. Then I told him that he could follow me down so he wouldn't fall."

It's a story they recall more because of the thousand times their parents have told it to them rather than any real memory of the event, but that doesn't matter so much as the way Hajime's scowl has almost entirely disappeared and he keeps looking at Tooru, expression soft.

"So I did," Tooru finishes. "I wasn't about to be told I was a baby by someone as grubby and mean-looking as Iwa-chan. Well, he's _still_ pretty grubby and mean-looking, but the point is that my mom didn't have to call the fire department to get me down, so I guess he's not awful. Unfortunately, even though I followed him down, I slipped on the last couple of branches and knocked him off and we both fell to the ground. I broke two bones in his wrist and I bit through my lower lip and needed to have stitches. There was blood _everywhere_ and neither of us could stop crying"

"And _I_ still got yelled at," Hajime points out. "Even though I did get you down safely, more or less. But growing up I always got in trouble whenever I tried to get you out of shit. I should have known from the start that you'd cause nothing but trouble. I mean, just remember that time with the moths—"

"Which wasn't my fault!" Tooru accuses. "That was your idea, and you know it!"

Hajime scoffs. "No it wasn't! Who was the one saying, 'Hajime, Hajime, look we should try to catch as many moths as we can because they're so pretty and we should put them in this jar that I'm going to forget to seal properly!'" He narrows his eyes. "And then when you ended up with the moth infestation you told our parents that I was the best moth-catcher and the one who'd given you all the moths to take home! Even though I reminded you three times to set them free before you went to bed, and instead you knocked them over while you slept and figured everything would be just fine because your window was open!"

"You were the best moth-catcher though!" Tooru exclaims. "You caught twice as many moths as I did and you _definitely_ didn't say anything about letting them go free! That's the only reason that when we had the infestation! And my window was open, so of course I thought they'd flown outside! Besides, the beetles were all your idea too!"

"You were the one who started crying about them! I was grounded for a _month_ when Miyuki-sensei called my mom and you got off scot free! But I wasn't the one—"

"Alright, alright!" Makki interrupts, throwing a hand in the air. "We get it, you two have been friends for approximately a hundred and seventeen years and you know more about one another than any human should ever want to know about anyone else." Hajime and Tooru subside, flushing a little and glancing away from one another. "No need to argue about things that happened a decade ago. You're going to scare off Tooru's _boyfriend_."

Tooru glares at him, trying to communicate with his eyes alone that if Hajime figures out what's going on because of him, Makki is going to die a horrible death. Makki continues to look too amused for Tooru's comfort.

"I don't know about that," Suga hums, leaning up so he can kiss Tooru's cheek. Hajime looks away and Tooru wants to sigh. Hajime's always so _weird_ about Tooru displaying any public affection. Just to annoy Hajime, Tooru nuzzles Suga, smiling against his temple for a moment while Suga twists to face Hajime. Only then does Tooru realize that somewhere along the way, Suga's practically climbed into Tooru's lap, Hajime squished up against Suga's other side. Tooru inches away slightly, trying to give himself a little breathing room.

"I actually think it's amazing that you've been friends for so long," Suga admits. "And I wish I had someone I knew like that. We moved during my second year of middle school to Miyagi and I ended up having to switch schools right after the new year. During my third year I managed to stay in contact with everyone from my old school, especially everyone on my volleyball team, but after I started at Karasuno..." He shrugs a little. "I barely had time to get to know the people actually in my class, let alone keep up with anyone else because volleyball kept me so busy. Daichi and Asahi were the only ones who stuck out of the other first years and we spent so much extra time practicing whenever we could..." His smile is charmingly rueful. "Becoming friends with them was practically an afterthought.

Tooru nods in understanding, and watches as Makki, Mattsun, and Hajime do the same. Seijoh took a day off a week, and Tooru managed to fill even that with coaching volleyball. He studied with teammates, hung out with teammates, joked with teammates.

In fact, volleyball filled most of his waking hours, and still does. Tooru had known the name of every single player on Seijoh's VBC, but he remembers vividly that he'd completely forgotten the name of someone confessing to him on _while_ they were confessing to him on no fewer than three separate occasions, which had taken all of Tooru's considerable skill to smooth over.

It's possible that Hajime's right, and that his priorities are a little bit skewed.

Suga grins at them. "I think that's part of why I'm so glad that Daichi is in Tokyo too. Well, Yaku—you've met my roommate, Tooru-kun and Kuroo's technically not that far away, but." He rolls his eyes. "It's not the same."

Tooru makes a noise of polite inquiry and Suga glances up at him. "Oh, I don't think I've introduced you to Kuroo—Kuroo Tetsurou. He was the captain of Nekoma, a powerhouse school in Tokyo, in our third year. Nekomata, Nekoma's coach, and Ukai—the old Ukai—were friends and when I was a third year we rekindled our friendship with them. We did a few training camps with them and some other schools." He stares off into the middle distance. "So many dives," he sighs. "So many sprints uphill. It's been two years and I still feel it."

" _You_ still feel it?" Tooru complains, and pulls up his pants leg. Bruises mottle his knees, including an impressively large one right beneath his right kneecap that's almost black. "We spent an entire practice just on defensive drills the day before I came home," he grouses. "Feel _bad_ for me, Kou-chan. Feel _really bad_ about all my bruises."

"I promise I feel really bad about your bruises," Suga says solemnly. He kisses his fingertips and then pokes Tooru's bruises, hard. "There, better?"

Tooru yelps and yanks his leg out of Suga's reach. "No! It's a lot worse, asshole!" He pushes his pants back down to hide the bruising, muttering under his breath.

"Well at least now I know you're tough enough to survive being in a relationship with Oikawa," Hajime says, which makes everyone except for Tooru laugh.

"Iwa-chan!" Tooru gasps.

"I'm glad you approve," Suga says. "You are Tooru-kun's oldest and dearest friend, after all, so that's important." Then, as though he hasn't made Hajime turn scarlet, he adds, "Five hundred yen to the person who can arm me with the best embarrassing Tooru story."

"What?!" Tooru cries, unable to even enjoy the flush to Hajime's cheeks properly. "This is harassment, you're my boyfriend, you're supposed to be nice to me—"

"I've got one," Mattsun announces, only for Makki to start talking over him, while Hajime interjects that he has to have the best one because he's known Tooru for the longest.

While they squabble in a companionable way, Tooru notices Suga studying Hajime, mouth quirked faintly. "What?" Tooru asks in an undertone. Suga's concentration cannot possibly bode well for Tooru's continued sanity. This entire picnic has been harrowing enough. "What are you plotting?"

"Nothing at all," Suga assures, and leaned in to kiss Tooru's cheek again, whispering, "Shouldn't you be trying to stop them?"

Tooru tries, unsuccessfully, to dissuade everyone from telling embarrassing stories about him to Suga, who just grins like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Somewhere the conversation slips from embarrassing stories back into stories about growing up, then shifts to volleyball and Seijoh before meandering towards what everyone is studying. Suga's almost as masterful at guiding conversations at Tooru is, which is impressive.

Almost everything has been eaten by the time Mattsun spies Watacchi walking through the park, picking his way through the spread of blankets and people. He waves their former libero over and then asks, "Shit, did someone remember to get a spare blanket? I think that's Kunimi and Kindaichi walking over too. Uh—oh, yep, it's definitely him," he adds as Kindaichi's back goes ramrod straight, hair sticking up even straighter than usual.

Everyone rustles around, but a second blanket doesn't appear, and Suga stands, having to scoot back a little in order to free himself from being wedged between Tooru and Hajime. "Well, I'll at least be one less person, then." Hajime starts to protest, Tooru a beat later, but Suga laughs and promises, "I'm not being driven off, really. I promised Asahi I'd hang out with him this afternoon, anyways. Besides, I'm sure that everyone is going to want to catch up on Seijoh news and I wouldn't want to interrupt that. Thank you for having me for lunch, though, it's been nice to meet you all."

He begins to gather his belongings, as Hajime elbows Tooru and mutters, "Aren't you going to walk him to his car?" as though Hajime has extensive dating experience that would allow him to pass judgement on Tooru. His voice is very close to Tooru's ear as he finally properly closes the gap that Suga's departure had left between them.

Suga hears them, and smiles widely. "No, I won't drag him away. I can get back to the car myself." He half-kneels, and kisses Tooru deeply, mouth warm and slick and somehow it's surprising. It takes Tooru a moment to kiss back, although Suga's mouth is soft and sweet and he know he probably pulls away too soon, but Hajime is greeting their former kohai in a voice that's too loud for anything but a volleyball court.

Suga says something, but Tooru is distracted by the strained smile on Hajime's face and nods, agreeing to whatever he's being asked. "Excellent, I think my parents are a little overwhelmed by the number of sweets I've been bringing home," Suga says. With a final kiss and a cheery wave, Suga departs.

Tooru watches him go, thinking that it could have been a lot worse.

"Oikawa-senpai!" Kindaichi greets, almost vibrating as he bows deeply, and Tooru snaps back to attention. "Iwaizumi-senpai told me to tell you that he's my favorite senpai!" He sounds apologetic, and a little bit confused, which is par for the course with Kindaichi.

There's no point in shooting the messenger, however, so Tooru smiles broadly and slings an arm over his shoulder. "So I've heard. Now listen, because this is what I want you to tell him."


	7. In Which Tooru Watches a Movie

"Iwa-chan!" Tooru trills the instant that Hajime walks through the back door.

"Hey," Hajime greets, kicking the door shut behind him. "How was Children's Day?"

"Not bad. Katsumi, Takeru, and my parents went out for dinner but since you and I had _plans_..." Tooru lowers his lashes flirtatiously and gets socked in the arm for his troubles.

"Don't be gross," Hajime complains as he steps out of his shoes. "And aren't you going to help me with any of this?" He gestures with the bag of treats in his free hand. "Who am I kidding, of course not. At least go and set up the movie, would you? Pacific Rim, you said?"

"I've already got it set up!" Tooru proclaims. "I want to see what you've got!" The instant Hajime sets the bag on the counter, Tooru rummages through it, taking the first packet of milk bread he sees and tearing it open. He takes a huge bite, chewing as he keeps digging through the bag. Hajime rolls his eyes but Tooru ignores him. "Ooh! You _did_ get the salted caramel popcorn, I guess you love me after all!" Tooru beams and Hajime scowls at him, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

"I promised, didn't I? And I've been looking forward to this," he mumbles, which is just unbearably cute.

It's so cute that Tooru has to throw his arms around Hajime, who smells windblown and warm, and he exclaims, "Hajime is so sweet when he uses that caveman mind of his for something other than grunts!" Hajime snarls but he also wraps his arms around Tooru, so he can't be that mad. Hajime holds him close for a long moment, and Tooru knows there's nothing better than this: standing in Hajime's arms and breathing him in, feeling held, safe, and _wonderful_.

Then Hajime stirs, and Tooru protests, clinging harder until Hajime says, "We can't actually watch the movie like this." He pushes Tooru away, but gently, and shepherds him to the living room while Tooru polishes off his milk bread. Tooru's already got blankets set up on the couch and he spreads them out while Hajime brings in their snacks, sighing as Tooru insists on wrapping them both up under one of the blankets and tucking his toes beneath Hajime's thigh as he reaches for the remote.

It's just out of reach, and Hajime watches him strain to summon it to his hand without leaving his spot for a solid thirty seconds before he sighs and leans forward, moving it close enough for Tooru to grab with a victorious noise. Tooru starts the movie, snuggling into the blankets and sighing happily. This is everything he could possibly want, and hasn't had in far too long. The joy and relief of their comfortable, companionable silence makes Tooru's chest feel tight.

Years of habit means they pass snacks back and forth while they watch on autopilot—one of the green tea kitkats Hajime got for Tooru in exchange for a handful of roasted green peas, wasabi flavored chips for dried mango, and when they dig into the Kasugai gummy mix, Hajime gets all the grape, Tooru all the apple, and they split the muscat gummies equally.

"You're not going to save any for later?" Hajime asks with horrified fascination as Tooru opens up his third package of milk bread and takes a bite. "How are you not feeling sick? You've already eaten half of what I brought and we're not even through the first movie."

"I have an iron stomach," Tooru reminds, rummaging around for the last milk chocolate bar. "Plus, I didn't eat dinner. Want your disgusting dark chocolate?" Hajime grunts, holding out his hand, and Tooru passes it over as Hajime mutters something about scurvy and nutritional intake again. Tooru ignores him and opens his own non-disgusting chocolate, nibbling one square at a time while watching the first double event occur and wiggling in delight, while Hajime wears a particularly pleased scowl when Gipsy Danger's sword appears.

The sound is loud enough that the doorbell ringing doesn't register at first. It takes their visitor ringing it a second time before Tooru sits up, tilting his head. "Who's that?" he asks as he pauses the film, baffled.

"Don't look at me, it's your house. Go answer it," Hajime instructs.

"But I don't want to answer it!" Tooru complains. "I don't know who it is, and I wanna watch the movie!" He pulls the blanket up over his face but Hajime shoves Tooru's feet out from under his thigh. " _No_ ," he whines as Hajime pushes him bodily off the couch. Tooru lands on his back, wheezing a little, and gets to his feet, a process made considerably more difficult by the blanket he's wrapped up in. "You're the worst!" he shouts as he staggers out of the room, still tangled in the blanket. He manages to get a hand free and opens the front door.

"Suga," he says blankly. "Ah—Kou-chan."

"Hey, Tooru-kun," Suga greets, kissing him. Tooru takes a half-step back out of habit so Suga can get out of the cool evening and Suga steps inside, balancing a box on his hips. "Wait, you're not sick, are you? You didn't tell me that you were sick." He regards Tooru's blanket burrito like it's a particularly ugly fashion choice that he's too polite to say anything about, even though his expression says it all. "Wait, did you just let me kiss you while you're sick?"

"I—what? No!" Tooru exclaims, brain finally rebooting. "Kou-chan, what are you doing here?"

Suga's brows rise. "What do you mean, what am I doing here? I told you yesterday I'd stop by after dinner with some of the spoils of my baking adventure with Asahi, didn't I?" He gestures to the box. Tooru peers inside it, and it's packed with a few small parfaits, a variety of cookies, and some sort of cake that's beautifully decorated. "I certainly can't eat all of this food. Do you have a fever?" He rests the back of his hand against Tooru's forehead. "You feel alright..."

Tooru bats his hand away. "I'm _fine_. What are you—oh." Perhaps he should have asked Suga what he was talking about before Suga left instead of just mindlessly agreeing while distracted by Hajime. Tooru feels like there's either some sort of cosmic joke or irony buried in there. "Yeah, I—yeah. My... I'm not—it's not—" Tooru stiffens as he hears feet in the hallway.

"Suga?" Hajime asks, surprised. He glances between Tooru and Suga, something strained in his face. "I didn't realize you'd be joining us tonight."

"Joining what?" Suga asks, confused, and then shakes his head and sighs. There's a rueful smile playing on his lips, even if he looks somewhat annoyed. "I think there's been some miscommunication. I told Tooru that if he was free, I'd bring over some of the leftovers from my adventures yesterday afternoon with a friend for Tooru-kun's family tonight." He shows the box off to Hajime. "But it seems that he forgot I was coming." Tooru upgrades somewhat annoyed to definitely annoyed.

"Shittykawa," Hajime growls and Tooru absolutely cannot be blamed for the way heat slides down his spine at the roughness of Hajime's voice despite the inappropriate moment. "You're the worst boyfriend. What, did you just completely forget his existence?" There's something vaguely accusatory in his voice and Tooru glares at him.

"I suspect he wasn't paying attention," Suga offers, and Tooru shifts the glare to Suga, who looks unimpressed. They both know exactly what he was distracted by, and why, and it seems that Suga's not planning on cutting him any slack tonight. "Sorry, but it was a long drive. Do you mind if I take these to the kitchen? The parfaits and the cake need to be refrigerated." He brushes past Tooru without waiting for an answer as though he's the owner of the house, and Tooru can't decide whether it's acting or not. He suspects not, but can't really blame Suga.

Hajime rounds on Tooru. Tooru tightens his grip on his blanket burrito as though it could possibly protect him. "How did you forget that your boyfriend was coming over? No, wait, how did you—actually, I can't say that, either. I _can't_ say I'm surprised that you completely blanked out while someone was speaking to you, but I thought that with Suga, at least, you'd bother to listen."

"I _do_ ," Tooru snaps defensively, which is a lie, and a bad one at that. Tooru loves Hajime and _still_ zones out sometimes when Hajime's speaking. Tooru can't help it, and he mostly tries not to let it happen with Hajime, and the fact that Hajime thinks Tooru would make less of an effort with his boyfriend than with Hajime is—is, frankly, a completely accurate assessment of the situation regardless of whether or not Hajime realizes it is.

Hajime just looks at him in disappointment, which makes Tooru's gut churn. Hajime runs his fingers through his hair and then sighs. "We should ask him to stay," he says. Tooru's mouth drops open to refuse and Hajime scowls. "He drove most of an hour to get here, and you forgot about him. Ask him to stay," he snaps. It's genuine anger and frustration there, along with something unbearably heavy that weighs down Hajime's words. That burns even worse, and Tooru looks at the place where the blanket is covering his bare feet.

"I didn't—it wasn't on purpose," Tooru mutters to his toes. He wriggles them beneath the blanket, then curls them as he tries to swallow down his objections. The words burst out of him anyways. "I don't want to interrupt our evening! We don't get to see each other that often, Iwa-chan! S—Kou-chan and I can see each other all the time! There's nothing wrong with wanting to spend some time with just you!" He hates the desperation that creeps into his voice, but he can't help it. "I'll make it up to him, I promise!"

Hajime says nothing. Tooru knows that he ought to be playing this off, should be agreeing with Hajime, should be finding a way to smooth things over with Suga and Hajime alike, but mostly he just suffers as acid spreads from his gut to the rest of his body, leaving him jittery and ashamed. "Hajime," he whispers, crumpling in on himself.

Hajime softens, eyes warm, and his broad palm settles against Tooru's neck as he steps into Tooru's space. He smells delicious, and there's a hint of chocolate at the corner of his mouth and it's unfair that Tooru lives in a world where he can't kiss it away, can't find out if the bitterness of Hajime's dark chocolate is sweetened by his mouth. "Hajime," Tooru breathes again, off balance and a little dizzy by how close Hajime's gotten. Tooru could—could kiss Hajime, right here, there's nothing holding him back except the horrible fear that Hajime will pull away, will look at Tooru with disgust—

"Tooru-kun?"

Hajime jerks away from Tooru and Tooru stumbles, catching the edge of his blanket and yelping as he crashes against the wall. He manages to catch himself before he falls, but only just. Hajime pulls him upright, hands warm even through the blanket, but he lets go too quickly, leaving Tooru alone.

Well, it seems there's another reason to hold back, after all.

Suga stands there, head tilted and a strange light in his eyes. "I put everything in the fridge," he says softly, almost uncertain. His gaze keeps flickering back and forth between Hajime and Tooru, like he's parsing something that Tooru in no way wants him to be dissecting.

"Stay," Tooru says.

Suga chuckles, glancing at Hajime and tucking a stray bit of hair behind his ear. "No, it's alright. I wouldn't want to interrupt your evening." He gestures behind him to the couch and the television and shrugs. He finds Tooru's eyes and says, "Not that I can blame you; I get to see Asahi so rarely after all, I can't help but want to spend time with him. It's alright to want to spend time with...friends without your boyfriend hanging around."

It's a warning and Tooru looks away, cheeks heating. "Stay," he says again. "I want you to stay." He puts more force behind it, and manages to sound like he means it. "I'll even let you join my blanket burrito."

Suga's brilliant smile makes its swift and sudden appearance but he shakes his head again. "No, no, it's alright." He sounds amused, and tired, and a little rueful. "We'll see each other later this week, after all. You might not see Iwaizumi again until the summer. Just..." He exhales. "Walk me out?"

"Yes," Tooru agrees, subdued. He tightens the blanket around his shoulders as Suga walks past him and slips outside. Hajime says nothing, but runs his fingers through his hair a few times while staring at Tooru like he _wants_ to say something, before returning to the living room. Tooru stands in the entrance, aware of his cold toes that ought to be tucked beneath Hajime's thigh and aware that they're going to get colder from standing outside with Suga. He wriggles them again, and then goes outside, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Suga leaning against his car, arms folded, but the ruefulness has taken over his face as he watches Tooru approach.

"I'm sorry," Tooru says, because he's only _mostly_ a complete asshole. "I wasn't listening."

"Yeah." Suga huffs out a laugh and squints up at the dark sky. His features are outlined in silver and his hair gleams. Tooru wishes very much, sometimes, that his heart wasn't overfull of Hajime. If nothing else, Suga would be fun and entertaining and charming and almost definitely enjoyable in bed. "Yeah, I suspected. I probably should have pushed you on it, but I thought it would be fun to tease you in front of your family when you inevitably forgot. I didn't actually think about whether you'd made plans. I really didn't mean to interrupt, either." He drops his crossed arms and smiles crookedly. "I knew what I was getting into, Tooru-kun."

The asphalt is as cold as Tooru had feared beneath his feet, but he waddles in his blanket towards Suga and untangles it enough to wrap it around them both. "Thanks," Suga murmurs.

"Am I really that obvious?" Tooru asks, half-anticipating, half-dreading Suga's answer.

Suga snorts. "Worse, probably. I honestly have no fucking clue how Iwaizumi hasn't figured it out by now. He's not blind, or deaf, or an idiot. If I'd mooned like that over Asahi it would have been public knowledge to all of Karasuno that I was head over heels. Seeing you together..." He trails off, playing with the edge of the blanket absent-mindedly. "It makes me a little jealous, honestly."

Tooru's not surprised, precisely. If Tobio-chan had subconsciously picked up on it, there was no way that Suga, who was far better at understanding people, would fail to see what was going on. "Jealous?" he asks finally.

Suga hums. "Let me guess, most of the people who broke up with you were angry that you never spent enough time with them, or talked about how you had different priorities, or wanted a show of loyalty that you really loved them, that kind of thing." Tooru glances at Suga, surprised, and Suga snorts. "Don't give me that look. I don't normally think of myself as jealous, but, I think—I think if I was your boyfriend and I'd seen you with Iwaizumi yesterday, I'd have been insecure about how on earth I was supposed to compete with that. I'd want you to look at me like that, like you've never been happier. Like you wouldn't want to be with anyone else. If I was actually your boyfriend, I think I'd want to keep you two as far apart as possible. Seeing you tonight...there wouldn't have been any doubt in my mind how you felt about him."

"So I'm pretty much the most obvious person on the planet," Tooru says, and swallows. "And it's only Hajime who is completely unaware that I'm in love with him." It feels weird, to say it so simply. "I love him," Tooru repeats. It's not as reassuring as Tooru hoped it would be, but that doesn't make it any less true. "Fuck." He buries his face in his hands.

"You leave early tomorrow morning, right?" Suga asks. "You should enjoy tonight with him."

"Yeah," Tooru rasps.

They're quiet for a few moments. "Even if we'd wanted, I don't think this could've lasted any longer," Suga observes seriously. He's back to staring at the stars, squinting a little against the streetlights. "When we go back to school, we need to end things."

Tooru can't find the words to respond, but neither can he disagree. This is a farce that's long since soured in his mouth. He probably should have said no when Suga first proposed it, but it's far too late now.

Suga sighs and kisses him on the cheek before detangling himself from the blanket. "Go inside before Iwaizumi comes out here wondering if I killed you for forgetting me."

"If you had, he'd probably help you bury my body," Tooru grumbles.

Suga laughs brightly but deflects with, "Monsters and giant robots aren't going to fight themselves, you know."

"They might," Tooru objects, and Suga waves his hand in a lazy touché.

Tooru watches as he climbs into the car, starts it, smiles at him, and then pulls out of the driveway. Only when he's out of sight does Tooru go back to the house, standing in front of the door for a long moment. He hates that Katsumi is right. He's built up this wall of silence and lies and hidden his emotions deep inside, but he sees the cracks all around him.

He's hit it one too many times, and it's about to break.

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door, complaining, "Iwa-chan, my feet are _frozen_!"


	8. In Which Tooru Says Goodbye

"Tooru?" Katsumi whispers in the shadowed kitchen. "Are you—are you sitting in the fucking dark down here?"

"I don't want anyone to see my shame," Tooru whines through a mouthful of cake. Katsumi flicks on the lights and Tooru swallows, washing out the taste of sugar with a long pull of his beer. An entire package of chocolate shortbread has also been decimated and the cellophane wrapper lays discarded on the table along with a few sad crumbs. Katsumi stares at the mess, aghast, but Tooru ignores her expression in favor of muttering, "You took a long time to get here. I needed moral support."

"Yes, well, I wasn't exactly expecting a call from you at midnight saying it was an emergency and I needed to come see you right away even though you're supposed to be leaving in less than eight hours," Katsumi complains. "I needed to make sure that Takeru was asleep and would be alright while I drove over here and dragged your head out of your ass. Don't you think you've had enough sugar?" She put her hands on her hips. "I'm sure you and Hajime just ate junk food all evening, I think you've consumed all the moral support that dessert can offer."

Tooru knows she has a point but shoves another bite of cake into his mouth and makes a face. As good as Suga's—Asahi's? Tooru doesn't really know or care—baking is, it's still sweet and the sugar is sitting increasingly poorly in his stomach. Of course, that might also be the effect of the three beers Tooru drank in quick succession the instant Hajime had walked out the door, but he can't regret them, not when it feels like everything is coming apart.

He shoves the fork into the top of the cake like a flag, and begins with his fakest, sharpest smile, "Mi-chan—" before abruptly bursting into tears.

Katsumi drops her bag and rushes to his side, wrapping her arms around him and letting him sob in peace. She doesn't try to calm him, just lets him make his horrible choked noises and sniffle into her shirt and never once makes a comment.

Tooru cries until he's emptied and presses his face against his sister's stomach, feeling like he's seven and upset and Katsumi is still the smartest, best elder sister in the world because she gives perfect hugs. She gives him one now too, and Tooru thinks about whether Hajime would classify it as a good hug, and makes another warbling noise of grief while Katsumi strokes his hair away from his face.

His eyes well up again and he presses his face into her chest this time as Katsumi crouches and murmurs soothing nonsense. The crying jag doesn't last for nearly as long this time, though, and Tooru pulls away slowly. His head is clouded and eyes are puffy.

"Sorry," he says, voice raspy. "I didn't mean, I mean I wasn't—I just, I—I didn't—" He's not making any sense and pulls in a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says again. "I didn't know who else to talk to."

Katsumi smiles, lopsided but sweet. "You're my little brother, Tooru. Of course I was going to come when you called." There aren't any tissues in the kitchen, so he has to make do with the paper towels that she gives him to dry his tears. They're scratchy against his face but she follows them up with a cool, clean dishcloth. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Tooru mutters. "But I guess I have to."

"You don't have to do anything," Katsumi says with rare seriousness. "Although I'll listen if you do want to talk about it."

"I lied about Suga."

It's not like ripping off a band aid. It's like lancing a wound that's long gone putrid, and Tooru can't help what spills free. "I lied about Suga. He's not my boyfriend and never was. He's a friend of Mattsun's that agreed to come to Takeru's party because I didn't want you to be right and I wasn't expecting Iwa-chan to show up but then he saw us together and knew that we were—well thought that we were, that we were dating and I didn't know how to tell him the truth!" Tooru took a gulping breath and continued, "And he wanted to meet Suga properly so Suga said that he'd keep pretending and it was fun except it was _awful_ because everyone thinks—thought—fuck, whatever, that Iwa-chan and I were dating and we're _not_ and Iwa-chan keeps being all supportive of Suga and—and me and _I still love him_!"

Tooru bursts into fresh tears. He's anything but emptied out, eyes still puffy, head still aching, stomach still sick from all the sugar and alcohol, and _still_ crying. Somehow it takes even longer for Tooru to stop sobbing this time, blowing his nose on the paper towels as he finally gathers himself together as he whispers, "I wish Iwa-chan loved me." The words stick in his throat and he bites his lip to contain another sob. He can't start crying again. His body can't bear it.

He can't even be angry anymore—not at Katsumi, not at Suga, not at Iwa-chan, not at himself.

Katsumi rubs his back, and because she loves him, she never once says, "I told you so." Instead, she asks the second-worst thing she could possibly utter: "What now?"

Tooru squeezes his eyes shut. He aches like he's been dropped over the edge of a cliff, he can't breathe and his heart is so tender that every beat throbs through Tooru's whole body. "I don't know," he mumbles. "Suga and I—we're going to 'break up' because he's done enough. This whole mess is—enough. Just enough." He swallows and looks pathetically at the cupboard with all the glasses.

Katsumi rolls her eyes but stands to get him water. "And then I guess I... I go back to the status quo," Tooru whispers when she set the glass in front of him. "Mooning after Iwa-chan so obviously that literally everyone except him has figured it out because everything is terrible and Iwa-chan is the cave troll sent here to torture me with his strong arms and sweet smile and good heart that I will never, ever deserve. It's not like I can tell him the truth. And even if I could, even if I was sure that he wouldn't hate me for lying to him _again_ and—and all of this," Tooru gestures like the wave of his hand encompasses Suga and the fake dates and Tooru being _Tooru_ at his most unbearable.

It takes Tooru a moment to gather himself enough to continue. "Even if I told him all of that, even if he accepted all of that, unless by some _miracle_ he returns my feelings, it won't be the same afterwards." His chin quivers and he presses his palms to his eyes hard enough that he sees spots. "Mi-chan, it's not going to be the same if I tell him but I can't lose him and I can't get over him and I don't _know_ what to do." There's a traitorous agony in his voice, exposing all his softest vulnerabilities.

"Oh, Tooru." Katsumi wraps him up in another hug and he sniffles and presses his face to the curve of her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." She sighs again and runs her fingers soothingly down his back. "If I'd known this would happen, I never would have forced you to keep your word, I never would have driven you crazy about Hajime-kun, I just..." She trails off, and she smells like the same floral perfume she's been wearing since she was seventeen. It's as close to home as anything Tooru can remember. "I've only ever wanted you to be happy. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Tooru rasps. "Iwa-chan makes me happy. Even when though we're not dating, no one makes me as happy as he does. Is that stupid?"

"No," Katsumi assures. "No. It's not stupid. It's not stupid at all."

Tooru closes his eyes and tries to catch his breath for a while. He almost wishes he'd brought an eye mask to reduce the puffiness, because driving home in the morning will suck. Hajime always makes fun of him for using them, when he's not scolding Tooru for staying up too late and necessitating their use, warm hand on Tooru's back, grounding him. Tooru bites his lower lip, which is traitorously quivering. His mind can't stray from Hajime for more than a moment and it's ridiculous.

"I will say one thing," Katsumi offers finally, and Tooru pulls away, making a face. "No, don't—well, you can ignore what I'm going to say but I hope that you won't." Her hair is falling out of its pins, and she absently tucks some of it behind her ear. "Tooru, I tell you all the time that you should either confess or move on, and it's true. Despite what you believe, I don't think that you can stay quietly in love with him for the rest of your life." Her smile is just a little sly, but it wouldn't be Katsumi's smile otherwise. "Well, loudly in love with him. I think you were practically proclaiming it before you even realized that's what it was."

"So I've heard," Tooru mutters. "Thanks, Mi-chan."

Katsumi blows out a breath in frustration. "No, you're not really listening to me. Have you ever considered that I don't _want_ you to move on?"

"What do you mean?! You're always on my case about moving on or confessing!"

"I mean that what you should really do is confess! That's what all of this has been about, idiot!" Katsumi lightly smacks him upside the head. "Did you ever wonder why so many people thought you and Hajime-kun were dating instead of thinking you just had the world's most obvious crush on him? Relationships are a two-way street, Tooru, and yours and Hajime-kun's have always been every bit as determined and intense on both sides even when you were children."

Tooru tries to mount a protest but she cuts him off. "As much as I've told you to either confess or move on, I've been hoping you would grow the balls to actually confess since high school. I honestly thought you'd do it on graduation day. I bet Dad one thousand yen you'd blurt your feelings out like an idiot and hand him your second button."

"Mi-chan!" Tooru half-shrieks before he remembers that their parents are very much asleep. In a harsh whisper he says, "Mi-chan, what the fuck? You bet with dad about my love life with Iwa-chan?"

Katsumi looks unimpressed. "Of course I did. How's that any different than challenging you to show up with a date to Takeru's party? You're my little brother, if I'm not constantly torturing you in some shape, way, or form I lose all the magical powers I gain from your pain." While Tooru gapes at her unattractively, she rolls her eyes. "And anyways, I didn't have to pay up because Dad bet one thousand yen that _Hajime-kun_ would be the one to confess and hand you his second button."

Tooru makes an incoherent noise and covers his face. Katsumi continues, relentless. "Because that's how it's always been. Oikawa-and-Iwaizumi. Tooru-and-Hajime. Never one without the other, best friends on the court and off it—you're the one that always calls him _your_ ace with such pride but _he's_ the one that always points out that you're _his_ setter. Tooru, the reason everyone is so fucking shocked that you've been 'dating' Sugawara-san is because you were _already dating_ Hajime-kun. They believed it because Hajime-kun has been as bad as you for _years_. It's not just about your feelings, it's also about _his_."

Tooru stares at her, eyes wide. "That's—no."

"He knows every one of your favorite foods, and the ones you hate. He knows when you're upset and whether you need junk food and movies or to be dragged out to play volleyball. He was more diligent about doing what was necessary to let your knee heal than you were, which is a feat I would have believed impossible until I witnessed it. He hounds you about your food and water and sleep schedule even when he's not even in the same city, and your weekly phone calls are as sacred to him as they are to you." Katsumi rubs at her forehead, a rueful smile curling on her mouth. "He's more attentive to you than Hiroyuki was to me when I was pregnant with Takeru."

"I think," Tooru says, focusing on the one thing that makes sense, "that using Hiroyuki is a bad example. Kyou-Ken-chan is more attentive to me than Hiroyuki was with you."

Katsumi waves a hand dismissively. "Yes, of course, but you understand what I'm saying. Hajime-kun cares about you as much as Mom cares about Dad, and has for years. I would never tell you to confess if I wasn't reasonably sure that he felt the same. I don't actually want to cause you pain." She takes his hands, suddenly earnest. "I meant it. I want you to be happy, and Hajime-kun makes you happier than anyone else I've ever seen you with. If you don't think you can confess, I will still support and encourage you to get over him and find someone who wants to build a life with you but I advise you to put yourself out there when there's no chance that he's going to feel the same."

Tooru suddenly jerks away as rage makes it hard to breathe. "You're wrong!" he shouts at her. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about! If he actually loved me, I'd have noticed by now!" He stands, pacing around the kitchen. What he desperately craves is the repetitive motion offered to him by volleyball, sending serve after serve over the net, each filled with his fury.

"Stop yelling!" Katsumi demands in a voice that's also a yell. Then she wrangles her temper under control and says in a tight voice, "And don't take it out on me like somehow this is my fault! I'm just telling you what I've seen. I've only known you your entire life and Hajime-kun almost as long. Do you really think I have no idea of how you feel?"

"You're wrong," Tooru snaps. He doesn't understand the panic that's squeezing his chest tighter and tighter. "Iwa-chan doesn't love me. You—you've got no perspective, you've known us for too long! Iwa-chan hasn't been acting any different, I'd have noticed if he was!"

"You really don't think it's possible that you might have a blind spot the size of Jupiter regarding to how Hajime-kun feels, in case you somehow misinterpreted it?" Katsumi asks sarcastically. "You really think you know Hajime-kun so well that he couldn't possibly have hidden this from you? The same way you're trying so desperately to hide your feelings for him?"

"I—no—yes—" Tooru fumbles through searching for an answer that makes sense. The panic thrums through his body like a livewire, and he can't catch his breath. The stirring of hope isn't a life jacket; it's the kraken below the surface ready to drown him. "I have to be up early in the morning so I can drive home," he blurts out, and runs away, too afraid to even feel shame.

He slams his bedroom door behind him and throws himself into bed, wrapping up in his blankets, only to wriggle free of them when it reminds him too much of the blankets separating his body from Hajime's after Suga had left. Tooru still has no idea how he managed to get through the rest of the evening, praying that he wasn't giving himself away as Suga's words echoed over and over in his head.

Katsumi's joins them now, reverberating like a bell, and Tooru curls up in a ball, heartsick and desperate for everything to end.

The chime of his cellphone startles him and he checks the text automatically. It's from Katsumi.

_I only have one last thing to say, and then I'll let you sleep. If Hajime-kun brought someone serious home, wouldn't you do everything to at least pretend to be happy even if you were miserable? Even if your heart was breaking?_  
  
Tooru—Tooru isn't sure he would. He'd try. Probably. Maybe. If he thought it would make Hajime happy, he'd do a lot of things, including hiding any jealousy or grief. He certainly wouldn't want to wear his broken heart on his sleeve, and at the end of the day, all Tooru really wants is for Hajime to find love, and to be loved.

If his partner made him feel loved, then Tooru would...try. He'd try. And if nothing else, Tooru does believes that Hajime would pretend not to be jealous, even though the notion of Hajime being jealous of Tooru's partner is too bizarre to be believed.

He doesn't answer the text.

He lies awake for a long time that night, however, and thinks about nothing else during the long, lonely drive back to Tokyo.

~*~

That night, Tooru tries to go to bed earlier than he ever has in his life, hoping to make up for almost a day and a half of wakefulness. Instead he spends two hours tossing and turning in bed before he gives up in favor of what he hopes will be his first, last, and only love.

He has a key to the gym because Shi-chan can't say no to him, and Tooru isn't even sorry about using his pretty face against the vice-captain. He needs to be made of sterner stuff if he plans to survive. Besides, Tooru needs the escape more than he needs to breathe.

The familiar routine of setting up the volleyball net and dragging out a couple of ball carts is soothing. It's quiet, too, which isn't surprising given the late hour, but the silence makes Tooru's spine relax even though his eyes are burning from exhaustion.

Tooru jogs around the perimeter of the court a few times to warm up and stretches before standing well behind the baseline. He takes a ball from the cart and hits it against the ground a couple of times before spinning it in his hands, rediscovering the weight and feel of it.

He tosses it, running in for his approach, and hits it squarely. It's not a particularly hard serve but as he lands he doesn't look to see where it lands; he knows it's in court. Instead, he goes back to the cart for the next ball. And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Somewhere along the way his mind finally stops racing and falls into the rhythm of spin-toss-approach-serve-next that lets him mute everything else for a little while. Later he can care about overworking himself, later he can care about trying to figure out what to do about Hajime, later he can care about his heart. Right now the only thing that matters is the gradual increase in ferocity in serve after serve, pinpointing with obscene accuracy every weak point in the imaginary defenses of his opponents.

Until, quite abruptly, he has a real one.

Suga steps in front of the serve, receiving it lopsidedly. It goes spinning back over the net and drops near the ten foot line. Suga scowls a little and then looks at his own forearms like they've betrayed him. "It _has_ been a while since I tried to receive a serve like that..."

Tooru stares at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I sensed your distress," Suga informs him with a shark's smile. "I've come to end it."

Tooru's eyes go wider, and he briefly wonders whether he really has made a deal with a demon, or possibly just a serial killer.

Suga bursts out laughing and shakes his head. "Katsumi-chan called me and said you hadn't answered your phone since she texted you last night and she was starting to get worried. She told me you'd probably be here or your apartment if you didn't answer your phone. When you didn't respond to my calls, I figured this would be the more likely place. So I stopped home, changed, and here I am." He walks over to where Tooru has dropped his belongings and drops his jacket on top of it, along with his keys and phone. He's dressed for the court and runs his fingers through his hair.

"I—when did you—no. No, never mind," Tooru says, holding up his hand. "I don't want to know how you managed it. Or how she managed it. Or any of it, really, and I'm really regretting ever letting the two of you meet. I've had my phone turned off since I got home."

Suga walks to Tooru's side of the court and folds his arms. There's no pity on his face, or even sadness, both of which would have driven Tooru to throw him out. He doesn't ask why Tooru turned his phone off, which makes Tooru wish that he could just fall in love with Suga. It would certainly be more convenient. "What are the chances that I can convince you to talk about it?"

"Nonexistent."

"What are the chances I can convince you to go home?"

"Almost nonexistent."

"What are the chances I can convince you to let me practice?"

Tooru studies him for a moment, but Suga remains at ease. "Existent. Setting drills?"

Suga's smile lights up the gym. "Alright."

He doesn't speak again after that as they warm up their hands. There aren't many drills they can do with only two people, but they make do, and it's almost one in the morning before they both collapse near their gear, exhausted. Tooru isn't ready to think about Hajime yet, but he thinks he'll at least be able to sleep tonight.

Tooru hands over his water bottle to Suga, indicating that he can finish it. It's the closest he can get to expressing gratefulness. Suga tilts his head back and drains it dry, the harsh fluorescent lights highlighting the bags beneath his eyes and the breakout on his forehead. It's painfully human, but despite the weariness on his shoulders, when Suga notices Tooru looking at him, he grins again.

Suga's worried about him. Katsumi might have tipped him off, might have been concerned in her own right, but it's Suga who actually showed up. Tooru folds his knees up to his chest, feeling stupidly warm. Tooru makes teammates easily, but friends are few and far between.

"I came prepared, but not that prepared," Suga admits as he passes the water bottle back. Tooru tucks it into his bag. "Thanks."

"What are you doing here?" Tooru asks again, and this time he's ready to hear the answer.

Suga stretches out his legs and stares out the window on the far side of the gym as he contemplates his answer. For once, Tooru doesn't feel the urge to hurry him. "Your sister's right, you know."

The moment is broken, and Tooru leaps to his feet and paces with frustration. "Not you too," he complains bitterly. "Is this a conspiracy for me to make an idiot of myself? Hajime doesn't love me. He doesn't." Fuck, but Tooru wants it to be true. He wants Hajime to hold Tooru in his arms. He wants Hajime to confess his love. He wants a life where he gets to come home and kiss Hajime hello and build a life with him.

Tooru has wanted so many things over the years.

"Hear me out, please," Suga requests.

Tooru runs his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He paces back and forth in front of Suga for a moment before he waves a commanding hand of agreement. It's an imperious gesture that deserves the arched brow Suga gives it. "Fine."

"He orbits you like you're the sun." The words are quiet and Suga's smile isn't as vibrant as usual. It aches. Tooru doesn't know if Suga is objectively correct, but Suga believes he's telling the truth. "Or, no, that's not quite true. You orbit each other so perfectly that I don't think you're aware of it any more. It's like you're always adjusting around each other, keeping balance. And actually, I'm sure neither of you are aware of it, because you nearly crushed me between you at the picnic because you kept moving closer together. He notices everything about you and constantly tries to protect you, even from yourself. If I hadn't been looking for it specifically, I don't know that I would have noticed it, but—but actually, let me back up."

Suga takes another moment to consider his words and begins slowly, like he's testing each phrase for its fit. "When I saw Iwaizumi's face at Takeru-kun's party, after you called me your boyfriend, even though I didn't have any evidence for it, I knew he was in love with you." He laughs, a little damp, and can't meet Tooru's eyes.

He swallows, then admits, "I knew it, because I have every belief that's what my face looked like when Asahi told me that Noya confessed. Even though it had been such a long time coming, even though I knew that they were in love, I just hoped—well, it doesn't matter what I hoped." He takes a deep breath. "That's why I suggested continuing the ruse, actually. I wanted to see if I could prove it, if I could make you believe me. Plus if I was there, I could use our supposed relationship to try and garner a reaction from him."

Tooru can't do anything except gape at him, and Suga shrugs only a little apologetically. "Like I said, I wanted to prove he had feelings, but I didn't even have to work for it. Seriously, the only one who's oblivious to what's going on between the both of you is the pair of you. It was almost a little embarrassing."

He starts listing examples, ticking the points off on his fingers. "I mentioned the fact that you and him almost squished me to death during the picnic. Then there's the way he almost swallowed his tongue when you put on that sex voice. Every time I kiss you, he looks like a little part of him is dying, however he tries to hide it. He'll distract himself or look away or otherwise try to pretend he's not affected, but I've got a lot of practice, pretending that it doesn't hurt to watch the person you love kiss someone else." A smile tugs at his mouth. "I can go on. I can talk about how much he cares about what you're eating, whether you're sleeping. I can talk about how he kept watching me like he was just _waiting_ for me to say or do something that hurt you even the slightest. I'm honestly surprised he didn't pull me aside for a private conversation and threaten to break every bone in my body with a baseball bat if I hurt you."

"He wouldn't need the baseball bat to do that," Tooru says. There's no filter between his brain and mouth anymore. There can't be, because Tooru's trying to examine every interaction he's had with Hajime for the last month in light of Suga's insistence there was something there.

Tooru hadn't noticed any of it. As Suga recounts it all, Tooru dimly remembers some of it, remembers finding perfectly reasonable, perfectly _logical_ explanations for all of Hajime's recent weirdness. He even remembers how insistent Hajime had been that he meet Suga, how determined he was to make himself known to Suga. He remembers the strange distance in the wake of Hajime's discovery of Tooru's relationship with Suga, remembers Katsumi's insistence that everyone was waiting for them to confess.

Strangely, stupidly, Tooru remembers with crystal clarity the tone of his grandfather's voice as he mutters something about doctors being better than teachers.

Tooru doesn't dare believe, but it's too late. Hope is winding tentacles around his heart and dragging him deep into the darkness below the water's surface. Tooru drowns and doesn't care.

"I think what really sealed it for me though," Suga says, like he's not upending Tooru's universe. "Is the fact that if I hadn't interrupted last night, he would have kissed you."

"I would have kissed him," Tooru corrects.

Suga finally looks at him. "You would have kissed each other." He laughs, eyes sliding closed as he tilts his head. "I told you, didn't I? If I'd actually been your boyfriend, I would have been incredibly jealous. You look at each other the way Noya and Asahi look at each other. No one else could ever stand a chance."

Tooru doesn't know what to say to that, so he says something else. "We need to break up. Officially. Unofficially. Whatever."

"Yes," Suga agrees, and—that's it. Their relationship is done.

Tooru can breathe again.

Suga rises to his feet, and for a moment Tooru things he's going to gather his belongings and leave. Instead, he kisses Tooru's cheek, lips soft and very warm. There's a finality to it, and Tooru catches hold of his elbows, painfully aware that he doesn't want to lose whatever budding friendship is growing between them.

The brilliance is back in Suga's face as he smiles, refreshing as always. "Don't even think about it. It's too late for you, you're stuck with me." He waggles his finger at Tooru, who finds rare delight in being scolded. "Now drive me home because you're an asshole who dragged me out here after a long train ride. All I want to do is sleep."

Tooru laughs and agrees, and though they don't speak as Tooru drives Suga home, it's comfortable. Suga squeezes Tooru's wrist once before he gets out of the car, saying, "Talk to him. Or at least think about it. Both Katsumi-chan and I can't be wrong, right?" He winks, and although Tooru can't agree, he doesn't disagree either.

Tooru doesn't know if he's ready to tell Hajime the truth about his relationship with Suga, to be honest, any more than he's ready to confess his love. Hope is a hard thing to kill, though, and Tooru's heart flutters in his chest as he parks his car and takes the steps up to his apartment two at a time. His whole body aches, but there's an undeniable lightness in his chest as he swings around the corner to his apartment—and freezes.

Hajime stands in front of Tooru's door, phone in his hands, with a bag on the ground beside him, muttering, "Pick up, pick up, pick up, Shittykawa, pick—"

"Hajime?"

Hajime's head jerks up, eyes dark and intense. "Tooru," he breathes, relief and fury and concern filling his voice. "We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3c happy birthday to me


	9. In Which Tooru Tells the Truth

"Tooru," Hajime breathes, relief and fury and concern filling his voice. "We need to talk."

Tooru's first, frantic thought is, _he knows_.

"Of course, Iwa-chan!" he agrees in his most cheerful voice, like it's not after midnight, like it's totally normal for Hajime to just show up at Tooru's apartment, like he isn't sick to his stomach repeating the words, " _We need to talk_ " over and over again in his head. He digs his keys out of his bag and they jingle as his hands shake, making Hajime look sharply at him.

"Looks like you already suspect what I'm here about," he says grimly. Tooru's going to vomit all over him.

Tooru opens the door and manages to get inside by some miracle, kicking off his shoes and dropping his bag in the entrance. "I'm sorry," he says in a voice that's too loud and too bright in his tiny apartment. He doesn't want Hajime to explain to him how he figured it out, doesn't want to hear how disappointed he is, doesn't want a lecture about his behavior—or worse, the threat that this was finally too much. That Hajime's going to turn his back on Tooru at last. "I turned my phone off, sorry, I..." There's no good way to finish that sentence so instead he asks, "You didn't have to drive down here. You have classes tomorrow, don't you? I wasn't going to stay at the gym all night you know, you don't have to—"

"Oikawa," Hajime interrupts. "Shut up. This is more important." He kicks the door shut behind him.

Tooru's halfway to the kitchen already and pouring himself a glass of water, using it as an excuse to keep his back turned and hands busy. "It's really not. Iwa-chan needs all the help that he can get so he doesn't—"

Hajime pins him against the counter, disrupting Tooru's thoughts again, and the heat of his chest against Tooru's spine makes Tooru want to dissolve at the touch and confess everything. "It's me, Tooru," Hajime murmurs, and it's no wonder that Tooru's fallen for him so easily. "It's me. I don't know how you found out—"

"Found out?" Tooru asked, thrown off. "How _I_ found out? How I found out _what_?!"

Hajime pauses. "You...you don't know about _Sugawara_ then." He speaks Suga's name with a vitriol that Tooru's never heard from him again. "Then why were you—oh, never mind. I'll deal with that later. This is important."

Tooru turns in Hajime's arms so they're chest to chest, frowning in confusion and frazzled as much by his closeness as by his words. "What's important? What don't I know about him? I'm a little confused, I thought you were—it doesn't matter. What's wrong with Sugawara?"

Hajime's mouth parts for a moment and then he shuts it again, swallowing. The rage crackling beneath the surface turns to pain, for Tooru rather than himself. It makes the nausea, which had almost ebbed, surge back in full force.

"I'm sorry," Hajime murmurs. "I went to drop Mattsun and Makki off at the station, and when I was there, I saw Sugawara. He was with a dark-haired man, Karasuno's captain, I think. They..." He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around Tooru's shoulders, resting their foreheads together. "They were all over each other, and I think I might have seen them kiss—it looked like it, at any rate, but there were so many people and I just couldn't be sure and then they were gone and just...I couldn't get a hold of you on the drive home. I thought, I don't know, I thought you might have found something out, but you didn't answer your damn phone all evening and Katsumi couldn't get a hold of you, and so I drove down here to keep you from..." He trails off, shaking his head. "I don't know what. From doing something stupid."

"Kou-chan is...cheating on me?" Tooru clarifies slowly. "You think he's cheating on me." He's caught somewhere between laughter, relief, and tears. He's shivering. He's so close to Hajime it hurts.

"I'm sorry, Tooru," Hajime murmurs. "Yes."

Tooru smiles, and from the look in Hajime's eyes, Tooru must seem half-crazed. "It doesn't matter," he says, the words coming from far away. "Suga and I broke up, anyways. It doesn't matter."

It's the truth, even. A novel turn of events.

Hajime's flummoxed. "But _why_? He's the only person you've ever dated that you acted like yourself around. As much as you're yourself around anyone," he amends, and rage flashes over Tooru's face, welling from deep inside.

Tooru almost snarls, " _I am around you_!" at the top of his lungs. Instead he swallows the words down.

"It doesn't matter," he repeats instead. He fists his hands to keep the tremors from showing. "It's whatever. I don't want to talk about it." He tries to shove past Hajime, but Hajime's gorilla-arms are still as strong and solid and secure as when Hajime was Tooru's ace—is _still_ Tooru's ace, his best friend, the person that matters more to Tooru than anyone in the world and Tooru is the partner that Hajime will always be proud of but it's not enough, it's not _enough_.

Tooru's hit this and he's ready to break.

"Let _go_ of me!" Tooru shouts at him, anguished, and jerks free of Hajime's grip but Hajime grabs the collar of his sweat-soaked shirt, half-choking Tooru as he gets yanked back.

"Not so fucking fast," he snaps. "What do you mean, it doesn't matter? You took him home, you dated him for months, you cared about him, he _mattered_." There's concern beneath the frustration. "Even if you broke up with him, it was _today_. You're allowed to be upset! Don't just do that thing you do, where you pretend it's all fucking okay and you don't care, it's _me_ , dumbass! You don't need to pretend with me!"

Tooru laughs bitterly. It's felt like he's done nothing but pretend with Hajime for months, and not just because of Suga. "What, like you know every one of my secrets?" he taunts, unable to help himself. "You think that I've never pretended with you, Iwa-chan?"

Hajime rears back like he's been hit. "What the _fuck_ are you talking about, Oikawa?"

Tooru takes another step away, out of Hajime's reach and with every intention of staying as far away as possible. If Hajime gets a hand on him there's no telling what Tooru will do. He wraps his arms around stomach and shakes his head. He's already said too much and needs to redirect. "It _doesn't matter_!" he shouts again. "None of it—none of it fucking matters!" It's the only thing he can cling to, because if it doesn't matter than he doesn't have to shed tears over it, doesn't have to watch this crumble around him. "Suga and I are done, and it's not like we had anything meaningful. It was fun, and that's fucking it. Stop making this into a bigger deal than this is, you're always so fucking _demanding_!"

" _I'm_ the demanding one?" Hajime asks, outraged. "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you even listening to yourself?" He takes a deep breath, and Tooru goes icy cold.

He forgets, sometimes, that as hot-tempered as Hajime can be, he's invariably determined as Tooru is, and just as unwilling to give up. Tooru's forgotten that clear look in Hajime's green-tinted eyes as he sees his opponent's strength and their weaknesses and moves forwards with a steadiness of purpose that Tooru admires. Tooru's forgotten what it was, to move in concert with someone else who knows him inside and out.

He's forgotten that whatever Tooru starts, Hajime finishes.

Tooru is an insect pinned to a board like one of the beetles Hajime used to collect, and all of his innards are exposed.

"You're hiding something."

Tooru sucks in a deep breath and takes one step back, then another. His pulse quivers in his throat. "I'm not."

"Liar."

"Drop it. Please."

"Not this time." Hajime has the audacity to look apologetic. "Tell me the truth."

Just as Tooru's plea means something, so too does Hajime's. For a moment, they war.

Tooru breaks.

"I can't," Tooru half-begs, and his back hits the wall as he lifts his arms in front of his face like he expects a blow. "Don't make me."

Hajime's steps are patient and heavy as he steps forward and wraps his hands around Tooru's wrists. He doesn't force them away from Tooru's face or pin Tooru's frame against the wall. His thumbs stroke against the skin there, toughened by years of playing volleyball, and the tenderness in the gesture undoes Tooru completely. "There's nothing you can say that will make me leave."

Tooru's vision goes blurry and when he blinks, tears splash on the floor. "It wasn't real. Me dating Suga—that wasn't real. I never loved him. He's a friend of Mattsun's, that part is true, but. But. But I—I asked him to come home with me as a fake date for Takeru's party, I wanted—it's just that, that Katsumi wouldn't..."

His voice gives out and he squeezes his eyes shut, a sob catching in the back of his throat. It's so tight that forcing the words out aches. "I lied, when I was home in March at the end of the semester, to Katsumi. She was—I told her that I had a boyfriend. Someone I wanted to take to Takeru's party. She just, she just wouldn't shut up, and I thought—fuck, I thought you wouldn't even be there. That you'd never know. You weren't supposed to show up anyways and find out that I brought Suga home, that it was fake, none of it." A proper sob breaks free of him and he bows his head, more tears sliding free as he crumples.

"Why wasn't I supposed to know?" Hajime asks, but there's a strange note to his voice, like he's guiding Tooru.

"Because if you knew it was fake, you'd want to know why I had to do it," Tooru rasps.

"Why did you have to do it?" Hajime coaxes.

His thumbs are still brushing over Tooru's pulse in his wrists.

"Because I was sick and tired of her telling me that I needed to either get over you, or confess to you. So I pretended I was over you because it was less frightening."

"Than?"

"Saying I love you."

There's silence but Hajime's thumbs never stop moving, and Tooru is choking on the hope. Then they stop, and pull away completely, and Tooru can't stop the raw noise of loss that's ripped free of him.

"Nothing has to change," Tooru begs, sobbing openly as he drops his arms finally. "I didn't tell you for years, nothing has to change, you can pretend—"

Hajime's mouth presses against his, awkward and a little uncoordinated between Tooru's tears and Hajime's uncertainty, but it's warm and real and soft. Tooru sinks to the floor, Hajime following him down, and for once Tooru has no fucking clue what to say or do. He stares at Hajime, completely lost, and Hajime glances away and rubs a hand through his hair as he flushes.

"I've been more jealous than I knew what to do with," Hajime admits softly. "I thought for sure you were going to catch on when I avoided you after Takeru's party. I didn't know what to say or do, and I couldn't figure out if I was too obvious about asking about Sugawara or not obvious enough or if you'd picked up on my feelings, and then I had to meet him just in case, I had to know for sure what it was you saw in him, and I had your parents and sister and our friends telling me it was just a phase and I didn't know how to just..." He trails off helplessly and shrugs. "I love you. I've loved you for so long that I never even thought about it that much. It just seemed obvious and inevitable that the only one that I could think about was you. No one else is like you on the whole planet, not as strong or passionate or—no, don't cry," Hajime half-laughs as Tooru covers his face.

Hajime pushes his hands away and wipes gently at Tooru's tears. "You'd never been serious about anyone before, and somehow I thought you never would be. Not really. And there you were with Suga, when you'd never even mentioned his name to me. I was afraid. I thought I'd lost you." He smiles crooked and sheepish.

"Why aren't you mad at me for lying though," Tooru warbles at him, tears still sliding down his cheeks. "I know I didn't mean to lie but then you found out and then I kept lying but I hurt you and I'm _horrible_."

Hajime sighs. "I'm pissed you lied to me, actually. But I figured we can yell about that, and anything else we want to argue about, in the morning after you actually get some sleep. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

As Hajime says it, Tooru can feel the exhaustion his thoughts had kept him too wired to handle slam into him and he leans heavily against Hajime. "It's not fair," he complains. "I'm sweaty and gross and haven't slept in a day and a half and, and you kissed me anyways."

Hajime's hiding a smile; Tooru's sure of it. "Oh, Shittykawa?" he asks. "Is that how it works now?" Tooru's aware that he's not making much sense at the moment, but relief is a drug all its own and he rests his entire weight on Hajime. "Don't you dare go to sleep right here!" he protests.

"Then come to bed with me," Tooru whines. "It's too late for you to drive home anyways." He paws pathetically at Hajime, only to be devastated by the way Hajime catches his hand and kisses the knuckles. " _Unfair_ ," he gasps again. "You're not allowed to do that!" He might be crying again, or still. He isn't sure.

He lets Hajime pull him to his feet. "Just for sleeping," Hajime agrees. "Come one." They stagger—Tooru somewhat drunkenly from weariness, Hajime less so—to Tooru's bedroom, where Hajime helps Tooru undress and get into bed in his pajamas while Tooru complains to no one in particular that he doesn't want to go to bed sweaty but also doesn't want to shower and somewhere in the midst of all of that, Hajime's weight on the other side of the bed makes Tooru fall asleep.

~*~

Tooru wakes up because he's sweating through his clothes and is still sticky from the previous night. He feels disgusting. He flails around, trying to figure out what's going on with the blankets and why there's a heavy weight on them, and smacks Hajime a few times, who stirs blearily, so Tooru can extricate himself from the tangle. "Wazza time?" Hajime mutters, more into the pillow than to Tooru.

"Gross," Tooru complains, and climbs over Hajime and staggers to the bathroom. It's late in the morning, he thinks, late enough that both his bedroom and bathroom are full of sunlight. He hates it. Usually Tooru's a morning person, but today he blinks at himself in the mirror for a solid minute trying to figure out what he came in here for. His full bladder makes its presence known, and Tooru pees, trying to decide whether he's willing to trade feeling gross for some more sleep.

He doesn't, so he strips and runs the shower as hot as he can stand, mind blank as he runs through his usual routine. When he's done he stands under the water, half-dozing, until he tilts dangerously and figures that he'd really rather not drown.

Especially not after last night.

Sudden warmth that has nothing to do with the shower makes him shiver, and Tooru shuts off the water and dries hurriedly. As he emerges from the bathroom, the rich scent of coffee fills the air and he sniffs appreciatively. As expected, Hajime's gone from the bedroom and Tooru dresses hastily in sweatpants and a clean shirt, wishing he could bludgeon his brain into functionality.

Hajime must have borrowed clothing last night, because the flannel pants and t-shirt are loose on him, except for his arms, which strain at the sleeves. There's coffee brewing but he's busily frying up some eggs and sausage and rice that makes Tooru's stomach grumble.

He hovers in the entrance to the kitchen. His water glass from the night previous is still on the counter and Tooru's struck with sudden shyness. Hajime, crowded against his back. Hajime, furious and demanding. Hajime, gently touching his wrists.

Hajime, saying that he loved Tooru.

In the bright morning light all of that seems like a dream, except Hajime is here on a Monday morning instead of at school, and Tooru's muscles ache from last night, and he can't stop thinking about Hajime's weight from less than an hour ago beside him in the bed.

Hajime turns and catches sight of Tooru. He looks as exhausted as Tooru still feels, and gestures to the coffee that's almost done brewing. "Milk? Sugar?" he asks. Tooru wordlessly takes the first out of the fridge and the second from the cabinet, and pulls out two mugs while Hajime finishes with their breakfast. Tooru fixes his own with just milk, Hajime's with just sugar, and carries both to the table.

Tooru's stomach twists in on itself as he sits, and he nurses his coffee just to have something to do with his hands—he can't imagine attempting to eat no matter how enticing Hajime's cooking is. Hajime doles them each out a bowl and sits from across Tooru but just fiddles with his chopsticks instead while Tooru keeps trying to hide behind his mug. Neither of them take a bite. The silence is deafening and Tooru would rather live in this loaded quiet than pull the trigger.

Fortunately, he has Hajime for that. Hajime takes a deep breath. "Tooru," he says, and Tooru's head snaps up. "I meant it. What I said last night. That I love you, and I have for a long time. Is that—is that okay?" His glance flickers to Tooru's eyes, his mouth, and away. Once Tooru would have dismissed the look—now he hungers for it. Knows the meaning behind it. Wants.

Tooru's hands clench around his coffee. "Yes," he blurts, and relief courses through his system, a potent drug. "Yes, I meant it, of course I meant it, I've loved you for years I just never said anything because I never thought you felt the same you never gave even the tiniest _hint_." He doesn't know why he's scolding Hajime but he's so giddy that he can't help it. It's morning and they're tired and Tooru can handle anything with those words to cling to. It makes it easy to be courageous enough to explain.

"Katsumi called me, about a week before Takeru's birthday party and reminded me that I told her, drunkenly, that I was over you and would be bringing someone to Takeru's party. Since you weren't going to be there anyways, I thought there couldn't be any harm in bringing a fake boyfriend home to shut her up for a while until she figured out whether I was serious or not. Then you showed up anyways and I...it was too late. So I lied, and said Suga was my boyfriend.

"I thought that would be the end of it, that I'd just tell you we broke up before Golden Week and I didn't want to talk about it and you'd let it drop. Except you didn't. And Suga volunteered to play the game a little bit longer, since it was as much his fault as mine and it just seemed easier, I guess. Than trying to explain how it all happened in the first place without actually explaining that it was because I was pretending not to love you." Tooru pauses, trying to organize his thoughts. "I figured we'd scrape by during Golden Week and then there was that movie night and I just..."

"And then what?" Hajime prompts, when Tooru falters.

The sunlight streams in through the kitchen window and Tooru closes his eyes against it. "It was such a mess. When I went outside with Suga, we talked, and he told me that if he'd been my actual boyfriend, and saw the way I looked at you, he'd be out of his mind with jealousy, and I knew then that the lie was done. I should've broken up with him, or whatever, and told you the truth then, probably. That what we had wasn't real. I just, I couldn't. I've been so afraid for years that you'd find out I loved you and reject me completely, or worse, pretend it was okay when it really wasn't. I didn't know what to do, and I was—fuck, I was so afraid.

"So after you left I called Katsumi, and she told me that it was _you_ pining after me, too. That everyone had expected us to get together years ago. That you loved me, like I loved you. And I didn't dare believe it. So I laid awake until I gave up, drove home, tried to fall asleep here, couldn't, and went to the court. Suga ended up going there because Katsumi called him, and he told me, fuck. He told me about how we look from the outside, all the ways we orbited each other, all the ways we fit, and I—" Tooru faces Hajime squarely and says, "I wanted it. All of it. And I knew there was only so much longer I could have kept how I felt secret. So Suga and I ended things officially, and then I came home and, well, you know the rest. And...that's what happened, Iwa-chan." Tooru bites his lip. "Are you mad, still?"

Hajime considers it for a long time and finally says, "No. I'm—it sucked, Oikawa. It did. And if you ever pull shit like that again I'm going to beat you into a bloody pulp. But I'm not mad, not really. What I hated was that it felt like I was losing you, too. To Suga, to secrets, to distance, all of it. I was terrified that I'd wake up one morning and you'd—you wouldn't be my friend anymore." His voice is gruff, but earnest, and Tooru can't help it. Hajime is everything Tooru's not and the steadiness of his voice as he exposes his vulnerabilities makes Tooru feel stronger too.

Anything's possible when Hajime looks at him with stars in his eyes.

"You won't," Tooru proclaims with absolute determination. He lifts his chin. "I'm not going to let you lose me."

Hajime's startled into laughter, but nods, soft smile appearing on his face. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know."

Tooru stands and circles the table, cupping Hajime's face and kissing him thoroughly. He tastes like black coffee and a little like morning breath and he responds eagerly to every one of Tooru's touches. All other sustenance is forgotten in favor of Hajime's mouth and the way his fingers tug on the hem of Tooru's shirt, dragging him impossibly closer until they're fitted together perfectly. Tooru slides his fingers from Hajime's jaw to his hair, breathing heavily for a moment as he breaks their kiss. "I love you. Iwaizumi Hajime, will you date me for real?"

Hajime's expression is incandescent, and Tooru is composed of light. "I love you too—and of _course_."


	10. In Which Tooru and Hajime Figure It Out Together

When the doorbell rings, Tooru practically sprints for it and hauls Suga in. "You're _late_."

Suga over balances, but catches himself against the wall and kicks off his shoes. "I'm aware, but lunch took longer than I expected."

"With Sawamura?" Tooru asks, painfully curious. Suga arches a brow and says nothing. "Oh, come on! It's been three weeks and you _still_ won't explain what the hell is going on between the two of you! You just keep laughing about it!" He pouts and puts his hands on his hips. "I spilled all my deepest darkest secrets to you about Iwa-chan, you should at least do me the favor of explaining why you're being so secretive about whatever it is that you're doing with Sawamura!"

"A rogue never kisses and tells," Suga replies with a wink.

"I think you're just torturing me with hints," Tooru complains. "Are you torturing me?"

"With hints," Suga agrees and begins to push Tooru towards the bedroom. Tooru considers becoming a dead weight, but Suga's arms are positively spindly in comparison to Hajime's and he fears he may crush Suga. "Aren't I here to help you get ready for your first date with Iwaizumi anyways? Why are you wasting our time discussing who I may or may not be fucking?"

Tooru cranes his neck, face lighting up. "Oh ho!" he crows. "You've upgraded from kissing to fucking now, is that how it is? Fine. I'm going to corner you once I've had my way with Iwa-chan and I'm going to have Mattsun sit on you until you start talking. Actually, Mattsun's met Sawamura, hasn't he? I should—ow!"

Suga doesn't look like someone who's capable of punching someone in the kidney, and yet Tooru's kidneys definitely hurt.

"Menace," Tooru sulks, but Suga's smiling as he effortlessly breezes past Tooru and sails into the bedroom. "Menace!" he repeats, louder.

Suga sits on Tooru's bed, pulling out one of his volleyball monthly magazines while Tooru strips and starts pulling on the first outfit he's selected. Suga flips a page, squinting a little at the words and Tooru teases, "You might need to get reading glasses, old man."

"I'm only a month older than you," Suga replies, looking up and frowning. "No, definitely don't wear that jacket. It looks like you're trying too hard." Tooru takes it off and before he can ask Suga's opinion, Suga says, "Now you just don't look like you're trying enough. Don't you have a nicer shirt? I think those jeans work though, they make your ass look nice."  
  
"They're my best jeans," Tooru confirms. "I'd have to fight you if you suggested a different pair." Tooru pauses for a moment as he's pulling out more shirts for Suga to look at. "This isn't weird, right?"

"No weirder than kissing in front of your family for effect," Suga says, attention back on the magazine.

Tooru blushes despite himself. "Touché."

They go through four more tops before they're both satisfied with Tooru's appearance.Tooru runs to the bathroom to hide his dark circles with some concealer, brush his teeth _again,_ and re-arrange his hair for about the hundredth time. He's determined to look perfect.

"You look fine, stop fussing," Suga calls over the run of water as Tooru tries to tame a particularly frustrating lock of hair. He doesn't dare use hairspray, in case Hajime tries to run his fingers through Tooru's hair and encounters the crunch of it. There are few things less sexy than hair crunching and Tooru wants to be as alluring as possible.

This is their first date, and Hajime won't tell him the details because he wants it to be a surprise, and he hasn't seen Hajime since his confession, and nothing on the planet could have successfully stopped him from obsessing over every possible detail of their last interaction like he can find the secret that will make tonight go _perfectly_ , to make this transition from friends into dating, into being _in love_ , be everything Hajime could have dreamed.

That quickly sends Tooru spiraling, as it always does. Somehow, all of Tooru's daydreams and idle wishing about being in a relationship with Hajime had never included this moment: Tooru, staring at his reflection in the mirror, looking a little like he might throw up.

"He's going to be here soon," Suga chides from the doorway, and Tooru jumps. "It'll be fine."

"But what if it isn't?"

"Tooru-kun. Listen to me. _It will be fine_."

"But—"

"It. Will. Be. Fine."

"And if it—"

" _Tooru-kun_!"

Tooru's attempt to wind Suga up as a distraction is interrupted by a firm knock on the front door. "He's here!" Tooru hisses, and from the way his voice cracks it's like he believes that there's a serial killer at the door, not Hajime. "He was supposed to fucking call me and give me a warning, oh fuck, oh _fuck_." He's hyperventilating. It's embarrassing.

Suga is not hyperventilating, and disappears to open the door. Tooru presses his hands over his mouth to stifle a cry of panic, then tugs hastily at his clothes like they could have possibly become wrinkled or hideous in the last twelve seconds. He tries to studiously ignore the murmur of their voices and compose himself, managing a few deep breaths. It's not like Hajime is suddenly a stranger.

"Oi, Oikawa," Hajime shouts. "Don't make me come get you! I didn't call you because I didn't want to give you more time to panic!"

Somehow, that lights a fire under Tooru's ass and he strides out, correcting, "Just because you could be mistaken for Godzilla doesn't mean we all want...to...be..." He stares at Hajime and swallows.

Hajime's gorgeous. He's somehow managed to dress in a way that accentuates every feature that makes Tooru want to pin him to the floor, straddle him, and touch Hajime until he completely falls apart, and for the first time, that's something that can actually happen.

_Will_ happen.

That's a terrifying thought, and Tooru doesn't know what to do with himself, swallowing. Hajime doesn't smile, exactly, but his eyes are warm and he extends a hand that Tooru takes without thinking, allowing himself to be pulled forward into a brief hug. He smells like something citrusy and calm and Tooru wants to breathe him in.

This is Hajime. Tooru is dating his best friend, is dating the most amazing person he knows, is dating _Hajime_.

"I didn't want you to freak out," Hajime murmurs, and Tooru swallows again. "Sorry. That's why I didn't call, I didn't want you to have the chance to, you know. Don't worry. It's just me."

"There's no 'just' about you," Tooru complains, or possibly praises. He's not sure which. "You should have called me. I needed to be mentally prepared."

"Mentally prepared for _what_?" Hajime asks. "It's a date, not a volleyball match."

"Shows what you know," Tooru sniffs. He pulls out of Hajime's grip. "Volleyball is easier. If it's a date, though, aren't you supposed to compliment me on how nice I look?" His heart pounds.

Hajime looks him up and down, slowly, and his gaze slides over his body like fingers. They're standing on a precipice. "I don't need to," Hajime says finally, and rubs a hand through his hair, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "You always look amazing, and you know it. I never would have expected any less."

"Iwa-chan," Tooru says, and covers his face. "You're not supposed to be so suave! How am I supposed to handle such a compliment from the brutish Iwa-chan!"

"With your usual skill," Hajime replies. "You're like a cat, you always land on your feet." That's two compliments in as many minutes. Tooru may combust.

He glances past Tooru for a moment, and Tooru abruptly remembers that Suga is still in there, albeit trying to sneakily make his way to the front door so he can put on his shoes and leave. He waves at them both, saying "I'm not here. Ignore me. Keep on—whatever it is you're doing." He shoves his feet hastily into his shoes and fumbles into his jacket and disappears through the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Quiet falls in the apartment in his wake, and Tooru's alone with Hajime.

"Hi," Tooru says softly.

"Hey," Hajime answers. He tugs on the lock Tooru kept fussing with and grins. "Missed you."

"Missed you too," Tooru replies, and stays quiet for a moment, soaking up Hajime's presence. Only then does he lean in to kiss Hajime, long and lingering. "We should have done this years ago. It's not fair to be able to date you now when we're so far apart. All I've been able to think about all week is you coming for a visit and I even hit poor Micchi in the back of the head with a serve! It's not the same, just hearing your voice. I should have pinned you to the floor of the volleyball court the first time I thought about kissing you and never looked back. I don't want you to leave."

"I don't want to leave either, but we don't have to think about that until Sunday night, right? Don't worry about it yet, okay?" Hajime murmurs. "I want to have fun with you, not think about me leaving right away."

"Fine," Tooru whines, and presses his face to Hajime's neck as he hugs Hajime again. He still smells dangerously delectable. "I won't talk about it, I promise. And _you_ promised to talk me out on a very special date tonight, didn't you? You wouldn't even give me details besides dressing casually," Tooru scolds.

"Of course," Hajime agrees. "I like surprising you, because it drives you crazy."

"Brute! You're a brute, Iwa-chan, that's no way to talk to the person you love!" Tooru pouts, pushing Hajime away. He isn't able to go far, however, not with Hajime's arms holding on so wonderfully tight. "You're so mean."

Hajime's eyes glow and he rubs his thumb against Tooru's cheekbone. "And you're so overdramatic," he murmurs, but there's a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, flaring in his eyes like a supernova and Tooru's going to hold onto that light until he dies. "But luckily I am willing to be mean if it means I get to surprise you and make you happy. I want to make you happy."

"Sap," Tooru says in a voice that's almost normal, but then Hajime kisses the corner of his mouth, and he's here and this is real and Tooru isn't sure he deserves this but he's too selfish to let go, either. "I'm happier than I've ever been right now," he croaks, struggling to hold himself together. "You make me happier, just by being here. And I'm not going to be sorry for pretending to date Suga if it means I get to actually date you."

Hajime blinks up at him, and he has no right to call Tooru's smile dazzling ever again. Tooru is blinded. "Gods, you've got a terrible personality. I love you, Tooru."

Tooru's grin is reflexive and brilliant. "I love you too, Hajime."

He links their arms, kissing Hajime's mouth again, deep and warm, and earning himself another smile. "I was promised a surprise, Iwa-chan," he proclaims. "Take me out, and blow me away."

Hajime laughs, loud and bright. "That's the plan. Now, as I recall, you enjoy outer space. So I thought that our first stop might be the planetarium, then dinner. What do you think?"

Tooru doesn't answer; it's hard to speak when he's trying his hardest to show his appreciation.

Hajime breaks the kiss slowly, looking suitably dazed. A part of Tooru wants to call off the date and spend the evening learning Hajime's body the way he already knows Hajime's heart. The rest of him wants to show Hajime off like the gift he is. Hajime's mouth twitches, like he can see the debate on Tooru's face—and well, who is Tooru kidding? He probably can.

After all, Tooru doesn't need more than a look at Hajime's face to confirm he'll follow Tooru anywhere.

"I think," Tooru says, smile never fading, "I'd like to see the stars."

They leave Tooru's apartment hand in hand.

~*~

The Cosmo Planetarium in Shibuya is only a twenty minute car ride away, and Tooru's been there a dozen times. It's one of his favorite places to go, as Hajime knows well, which is probably why he selected it. If nothing else, Tooru can hide his own awkwardness and anxiety by blathering on about all the exhibits and films.

Which, truthfully, can only be to the good because in the meantime, Tooru's blathering on about every other possible topic. In less than ten minutes, he jumps from what happened at yesterday's practice, to the fact that he's got an exam coming up, to the new café around the corner from his apartment.

Hajime takes it all in stride, amused but pleased rather than annoyed, and that makes the ropes around Tooru's chest ease. "You're not being weird," he finally accuses, which makes Hajime laugh. "Why am I the only one who feels weird about this?"

"Because you're the only one with that ridiculous brain of yours, always second guessing yourself and coming up with backup plans, because it makes you feel better to have a safety net, just in case. Even though it's _me_ ," Hajime says. Tooru makes a face. "It's true! I'm not going to let you talk yourself into thinking that I don't want this. Besides, this isn't the first time that I've listened to you ramble, Shittykawa."

"Tooru," Tooru insists mulishly. "If you're going to insult me, you at least have to use my name."

Hajime rolls his eyes, but he takes Tooru's hand, too, and Tooru's toes curl. "Tooru," Hajime says simply, and Tooru's breath catches as he turns an inquiring, wide-eyed look to Hajime. "Tooru, you're an idiot."

Tooru groans and lets his head fall back. "You're already the worst boyfriend _ever_ ," he complains, and Hajime grins.

"Well, you're not half bad," he says and Tooru briefly has to hide his face.

"Hajime-chan is so affectionate!" he mumbles. "How am I going to deal with a Hajime that's so affectionate?!"

"In stride, like with everything else," Hajime says, and Tooru turns bright red while Hajime laughs.

They hold hands for the rest of the trip, and Tooru can't seem to make his blush vanish.

Hajime pays when they get inside, so Tooru insists that he'll cover dinner. Hajime flicks him on the forehead, though, and corrects, "No, you'll pay for our next date. I already know where I want to take you, and I have the money to cover it. I just want you to enjoy yourself, okay?" He kisses Tooru's temple and it feels like Tooru must have swallowed the sun, to feel this happy and bright.

"Okay," he agrees, but also privately resolves to make their next date even better. Maybe he'll take Hajime to one of the Godzilla-themed shops or restaurants, he'd like that. He'd like a place that serves agedashi tofu, too, so Tooru will have to make sure there's some available...

He hums as he's lead through the planetarium, talking about the quaint little exhibits in the lobby, and some of the new data that's been discovered about gravitational waves, while Hajime asks curious questions. Tooru can't answer all of them, but he doesn't mind; when he can't, Hajime squeezes his fingers and swings their hands back and forth.

Tooru, of course, also insists that they get in line early, to make sure that they can get the perfect seats, even though there aren't many people there for a late Saturday afternoon. Hajime humors him and Tooru falls into old, casual lines of conversation, and it's so normal except for how their fingers are entwined, and sometimes Hajime leans in close enough for a kiss, eyes sparking with challenge until Tooru has to meet him and kiss him and make him smile against Tooru's mouth.

And Tooru can't be afraid, at least for now. At least for today, looking at Hajime and thinking _, Boyfriend. That's my boyfriend_ , feels like the most natural thing in the world. Tooru leans their forehead together.

"Hey, I love you," Hajime murmurs, just before the doors open up and they can start filing in. Tooru tugs him back, has to return the sentiments, inaudible to anyone but them, not because it's a secret but because it's too tender a thing to be shared so brazenly.

From there, it's a blur. It's Tooru listening to the presentation in the planetarium with half an ear, whispering additional information to Hajime. It's afterwards, standing in the bright sun as they head towards an early dinner and seeing the way Hajime glows. It's standing in front of the restaurant, quietly elegant, and then being ushered to a private back room. It's food, and laughter, and brushing their ankles under the table until they've both lost track of time and emerging in darkness, still talking like there's never been space between them, and never will again.

It's all Tooru could have possibly wanted, and it's almost too perfect. Tooru would worry, but Hajime's right there, steadying him.

By the time that they get back to Tooru's apartment, the real stars are out, albeit hidden by the bright lights of the city. They stand in front of Tooru's door, and this time, Tooru fumbles to unlock the door because Hajime won't stop stealing kisses.

Once they're inside, however, Hajime pauses and scratches a hand through his hair, awkward. "Um, you, uh, you know that I don't expect—um, you know. Anything from you. Not tonight, or I mean, whenever you're ready? Whenever that is. I just want _you_."

Tooru flicks on the lights and just strides towards his bedroom, peeling off clothing as he walks. "If you're not in here in thirty seconds," he calls, "I'm going to put on my pajamas and go to bed after an _amazing_ date. But if you make it here while I'm still naked..."

Hajime joins him at a sprint.

Tooru sniggers as he's pushed down to the sheets, Hajime still dressed and straddling him. "Do you ever slow down?" Hajime demands breathlessly. "I'd wait, you know, I've waited this long—"

"Well I'm _done_ waiting," Tooru interrupts. "I'm done waiting, and I want you, and unless you're about to say _you're_ the one not ready—"

"I'm ready." It's Hajime's turn to interrupt. "Damn it, I'm ready."

"Then kiss me."

Hajime obeys, and the kiss is searing hot and desperate, everything Tooru could have wanted and more. Between the pair of them, they manage to get Hajime undressed too, until it's just skin on naked skin. Tooru's mostly hard just from the weight of Hajime's body and the way they keep grinding together as they make out, kisses growing heavier and sloppier, tongues sliding together.

"What—what do you want?" Hajime gasps against Tooru's mouth.

Tooru shrugs helplessly. "I've been waiting forever," he admits. "I... I never thought I'd get even this much, I didn't... I don't know. I didn't—do you want to do something?" He tilts his head, and Hajime pulls away, smile tugging at his mouth.

"I thought about you all the time," Hajime admits, voice low and rough. "I felt guilty about it, and tried to stop so many times, but I couldn't make myself. I've thought about doing all sorts of things to you—opening you up with my tongue, making you beg while I kept you on edge for hours, just making you fuck my fist until you couldn't hold back anymore."

Tooru's dizzied by the notion of it all. "Yes."

"Yes to what, volleyballs-for-brains?"

"All of it. Any of it. Yes."

Hajime purses his lips, and he looks like he's thinking too much, so Tooru drags him back in for more kisses, laughing against his mouth. "Whatever comes to mind. I want all of it, okay? I want _you_ , that's what this whole thing—what it's all been about."

"You're still too eloquent," Hajime mutters, and then he's kissing and Tooru's body and—and—

Tooru groans when Hajime wraps his lips around Tooru's cock and sucks. He doesn't know what to do with his hands, with his legs, shivering and twitching as he tries not to fuck up into Hajime's mouth. "Uh, uh, uh," he stammers, trying to make his brain work. It resists his every attempt to bludgeon it into coherence. "Hajime—I—you—" Tooru moans again, breathless.

Hajime's doing something absolutely illegal with his tongue that makes Tooru's eyes roll back in his head. Without noticing, he's managed to grip Hajime's hair, if tenuously, and his thighs are spread wide like that'll get him more, hotter, wetter. Hajime's fingers are on his hips, pinning him to the sheets. He hums a little, tongue pressed to the underside of Tooru's dick and Tooru grits his teeth.

"Hajime, Hajime, _Hajime_ ," he gasps, muscles quivering. "Fuck, I'm—I'm close." And he is, with the kind of speed that should embarrass him. Instead, Hajime looks up the length of his body with a glint in his eyes that Tooru arguably finds more arousing than he should, and slides down until he's got his nose pressed to the dark hair at the base of Tooru's dick.

Tooru shouts a garbled noise that was a valiant attempt at Hajime's name, and comes, pleasure sliding through his veins. His toes curl as he sags back, limp and breathless. Hajime pulls off slowly, and Tooru squeezes his eyes shut at the aftershocks.

Hajime disappears for a few moments, but Tooru hardly notices. He's _still_ trying to put his brain back in order. The instant he manages, though, he noisily summons Hajime to his arms, takes one look at his hard cock, and smirks.

Tooru gets him on his back instantly and perches over him with a wicked grin on his face as he purrs, "Let me return the favor?"

Hajime's pupils are huge. "Yes."

Tooru needs no further invitation and wraps his mouth around Hajime's cock like he's been starving for it, loving the weight of it on his tongue. He slides Hajime's legs over his shoulders as Hajime claws at the sheets, and Tooru laughs when Hajime mutters something about, "Of course you're smooth at this, I don't know why I expected anything different." He drags his nails down Hajime's sides, earning a guttural, desperate noise.

They've both been waiting for this moment for too long.

So Tooru gives it everything he's got. Everything he's got is a considerable amount of skill, plus almost two decades of knowing Hajime more intimately than any other person on the planet.

If possible, Hajime comes even faster than Tooru.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Crappykawa," Hajime croaks, looking destroyed. Tooru just upgrades his smirk into something positively devious while Hajime groans and tries to hide in the blankets. Tooru laughs at him, shameless, and then kisses his belly and the corner of his mouth before standing.

He licks his lips clean and goes to rinse out his mouth like Hajime did before sliding back into bed; Hajime seems to have gathered at least some of his wits in the meantime. "I love you," Tooru whispers, nuzzling him.

Hajime wraps an arm around Tooru's shoulders and pulls him close. The bed is probably still too small for them, and Tooru sleepily considers how expensive it would be to upgrade. He can usually score at least a little money by modeling for one of the art students in the city, plus he's got his birthday coming up soon. It'd be worth it, to have a proper bed to cuddle beside Hajime, on the rare times he's able to visit.

That thought leaves Tooru cold.

Hajime stirs when he feels Tooru stiffen. "I love you," he repeats. "We managed to survive this far. We'll survive whatever comes next, okay?"

Tooru scowls. "Stop reading my mind."

"Stop making your mind so easy to read."

"You—you— _Shittyjime_."

Hajime gives him an incredulous look. " _That's_ the best insult you could come up with?"

"It's your fault," Tooru replies primly. "You sucked my brain out through my dick."

Shaking with laughter, Hajime tugs Tooru close and tucks some hair behind his ear. "Dumbass," he says. "No, don't look at me like that, you are a dumbass, okay? We'll survive together. We'll find a way. You won't allow anything less than perfection."

Tooru's smile spreads slowly. "Fine. So we'll figure it out. Together."

Hajime grins in answer. "Together."  


**Author's Note:**

> And so we've reached the end! I'm...wow. Just, this has been an incredible labor of love for a long time, and I'm both happy and terrified to finally see it finished! Again, my thanks to my betas minhoneyboysuga and quinnlocke, and to all of you who have read this and supported me writing this as well.
> 
> Last, but certainly not least - if you're worried about Suga, don't be >:3c I'm working on a sequel/companion to this fic, picking up about where this one leaves off, focusing on Suga. Hopefully I'll start posting that sometime in the next couple of months (I have a couple other projects I desperately need to make headway on first, I'm afraid).
> 
> Thank you again, and if you enjoyed this, please consider coming and yelling with me about Haikyuu!! or any other fandom you find on my multifandom mess of a [tumblr](http://www.rustingroses.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/rustingroses)! I...I mostly cry a lot on there and post pictures of lovely, lovely characters
> 
> <3 <3 <3


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